Monday 7 December 2015

Christmas cards!

It's the second advent (even tho it's technically Monday the seventh now) and I just finished all the Christmas cards! I think I made around 30 this year, my record probably! I'll put up some photos of them after Christmas maybe. If I remember.

We're leaving on the 11th, just five more sleeps! I'm exited! I haven't finished all the Christmas knitting yet, hopefully I will before Christmas. I have the days between the 11th and the 24th of course but time flies when you're travelling. Now if only I haven't run out of yarn...

Thursday 29 October 2015

hey it's christmas soon

Here's my wishlist if you feel like buying me stuff!

What do you want for Christmas?

Thursday 22 October 2015

Trippin and coughin

So I did bake that thing, I wasn't very pleased with it unfortunately.
I went to Sweden to get the last of my stuff, and I'm happy to have it all in one place even though the stress from traveling and moving killed my immune system and I was sick for about a week after.
By now the complete chaos is subsiding. There's still a few boxes standing around and some things that don't really have a home yet but most stuff is sorted.
My curling iron wasn't there, and a few other things that I thought I'd get back, but there was a lot of stuff that I'd missed and that I'm really happy to be reunited with! And a lot of stuff that I'm giving to welfare.
I've started knitting christmas gifts! And today I went to the doctor for the first time since I moved over. I hope to be able to get a therapist here but it might be tricky and take time. I feel worried and sad about that. Even though we're surrounded by large cities here - Gothenburg is right to the East, North of here is Oslo, and Denmark is small so Copenhagen is just a 40 minute flight away - it feels like we're close to stuff! But we're in North Jylland (jutland?) and there's not much of anything here. (Except students and bars.) Doctors and psychologists are thin on the ground, unfortunately. We're pretty much in the countryside.

Uhmmmm my curling iron was one of the first things I did unpack. Depression forgetfulness is SO MUCH FUN.

Saturday 26 September 2015

Baking with depression

Day 1: Think about baking. You want to bake something. It would be nice.
Day 2: Try to figure out what to bake. Look at pinterest for a few hours.
Day 3: Decide on a cheesecake. Not TOO complex, but still good!
Day 4: Find the right recipe.
Day 5: Get someone to buy you some of the ingredients.
Day 6: Anxiety.
Day 7: Watch cartoons.
Day 8: Sit down and look through the recipe. Realize that you still need some ingredients.
Day 9: Try to go to the shop! Fail. Get drunk instead. (Not as drunk as you want to be. You started too late.)
Day 10: Be hungover? Not as much as you could have been if you were as drunk as you wished that you were! So... small win. Get someone else to come to the shop with you. Buy the last couple of things. Combine ingredients according to recipe  (more or less). Follow instructions (more or less). Maybe success? (We'll see! Haven't made it all the way there yet.)

Tuesday 22 September 2015

Nothing happened

My past is full of betrayals, my head is full of horrible memories, my heart is full of pain. Still, after all this time. Details have started melting away but the pain is fresh.

But in reality, nothing happened. There was no consequences. Being bullied and thrown out of school for being unpopular  (yes, it actually happened) led to me being lost and broke and homeless but I'm still alive, I had wonderful friends who took me in and now there's not really any consequences left. I don't have the education that I wanted but on the other hand I didn't have to spend any more time in that place.

Having pretty much all my valuables stolen by someone I trusted led to me not having some things that meant a lot to me - the sewing machine my parents and grand parents gave me for my 25th birthday, the amazing digital camera I bought from one of my best friends, a hard drive with all the photos I ever took and even my sex toys(!!!) - but at least I don't have him in my life anymore. I miss my stuff a lot still, but the ice cold betrayal hurts more. I thought he was my friend, but he lied and schemed and spread rumours and, well, stole shitloads of things from me. I feel so disgusted by it. He even beat up my father.

How does a human being sink so extremely low?

I know that there are worse people. Murders and wars and bombs and assaults happen daily. I just don't understand it. Mean, selfish, cold people prey on the weak. I was weak. I was extremely depressed already, he made me think that he cared about me and then he threw me out and stole all my valuable things. Personally valuable or monetarily valuable didn't seem to matter, so it wasn't only about personal gain for him. It was about doing as much damage as he could.

And what happened? I moved to a way nicer place. I got rid of a horrible person. In general my quality of life improved.

Nothing happened. I'm okay. I'm still battling depression but as mentioned I was before that asshat took advantage of me, before I went to that shithole school. Even before I lost my job.

One day, I'll get better. They never will. You can't get better from being a really fucking bad person. You will always have done what you have done.

Thursday 17 September 2015

Being a creative person with a depression

[17/09 16:29] Kristina: Ugh. Whenever I let my mind wander I get super obsessive over shitty stuff
[17/09 16:29] Kristina: Like that one time I said something wrong at a party
[17/09 16:29] Kristina: Or that one person who probably thinks I'm an idiot
[17/09 16:30] Kristina: Or that time I was kinda mean to someone
[17/09 16:30] Kristina: And then I get upset over caring about people who don't matter at all
[17/09 16:31] Kristina: And then I go on to obsess over some other meaningless shit!
[17/09 16:31] Kristina: Or keep obsessing over the same shit some more
[17/09 16:32] Kristina: It's so difficult to do anything when my brain just screams at me "YOU WORTHLESS PEICE OF SHIT REMEMBER THAT TIME WHEN YOU GOT TOO DRUNK AND ACTED LIKE AN IDIOT HAHAHAHA YOU SUCK SO BAD YOU'RE A SOCIAL RETARD"
[17/09 16:34] Kristina: "Why do you even paint you're so exceptionally awful at it there is nothing good or original about anything you do hahaha you're so fucking bad at everything"
[17/09 16:35] Kristina: And I try to explain to my brain that not everything has to be original, there are GENRES for a reason, it's not like I can invent new colors. And I'll never get better by avoiding the things I like. But my brain doesn't care at all. It just starts screaming about something else.
[17/09 16:36] Kristina: It's so hard to focus with this constant hate in my head
[17/09 16:42] Kristina: This happens EVERY TIME I don't have some kind of thing to entertain me
[17/09 16:42] Kristina: That's why I always watch stuff or listen to books
[17/09 16:42] Kristina: That's why I hate going to bed if I'm not tired enough to fall asleep immediately
[17/09 16:43] Kristina: Just listening to music doesn't help
[17/09 16:43] Kristina: The same when I play games that don't take almost all of my attention
[17/09 16:44] Kristina: Like any situation where I have a possibility to think about anything

Wednesday 16 September 2015

All this pain

How can it all fit inside me while I'm feeling so small?

I've been crying so much today. Maybe yesterday? Saturday or Sunday? I don't remember. The last few days are a blur. I'm so stressed out, about stuff beyond my control. I can't relax. I sleep too much and I have rage outbursts and panic attacks and uncontrollable crying. My appetite is messed up. My body hurts, like I've been running for hours.

My mind is like a blender. My head feels like it's breaking. Cracking.

The stress makes me testy, annoyed, angry. The anger has a domino effect, it's explosive. I get so angry just because I'm angry. I have no reason for it and I get so angry at myself! And it just grows, way out of proportion, way beyond my control. I slam doors and scream. And I hate myself for it.

Inside me there is constant chaos. No rest. No respite. Constant fighting, running, reaching for the surface, for light, for air. No possibility to relax and catch my breath. Not once.

But last night I fell asleep with a smile, even though I woke up in a panic a couple of hours later. Running in my nightmares, never safe, never a moment of rest. I fell asleep again and returned to the nightmare, to the panic. When I woke up again I woke Chris up and made him talk to me. He talked about skateboarding.

I hope that I can get a shrink appointment soon.

Sunday 6 September 2015


Generally around one. Use one spoon for eating breakfast. Rest an hour or so. Use one spoon for unpacking a box. (Unfinished.) Feel lost and confused.

Spending a lot of time in my head. Making myself sad. Should make important calls and pay important bills but my head hurts and my heart too.

Tuesday 25 August 2015

Not awesome

Today I made teriyaki sauce from scratch AND tempura vegetables! Both were terrible. Biggest food fail in years.

Been in a horrible mood all day.

Now I'm going to bed.

Today's achievements: got the shelves in the kitchen properly set up. Reorganised the cupboards. Made a complicated dinner (wich turned out bad, but I still did it). Fixed a bank thing. Booked tickets to Sweden. Spun some yarn.

Friday 21 August 2015

Me forever

I'll always be me. I'll never get to be anyone else. I'll never get rid of my past. The things that have happened to me will always have happened. The person that I am will always keep being me. I'll never get rid of myself. I'll never be free from my memories. From the insane pain of all those betrayals.

I don't know how to move on, let go. I don't know how to handle my feelings. I don't know how to process my memories. I don't know how to live, how to find myself or get back out into the light.

People keep telling me that I'll get better but I have no idea how. It doesn't just pass by itself. It doesn't just get better. The memories don't go away.

I want to accept that but I don't know how to do that either. I'm stuck between hate and pain and I have no idea what to do about it.

I think that I'll be sad, angry, in pain for the rest of my life. I'm not okay with that. Maybe I should be? Maybe I should accept that this is what I am now? A broken down mess, a few jagged pieces of my former self. Maybe I should try to fight it? Put myself back together? Or build a new me? I don't know. I don't know what is right or wrong. Good or bad.

All I know is that I'm tired of all of it.

Monday 10 August 2015

Panic attacks

Today I read on the Internet that panic attacks can come in a lot of different shapes, so to speak. I had no idea. My outbursts of rage has been panic attacks? I'm having panic attacks on a daily basis without knowing. I thought only the super heavy "can't breathe or think or anything"-versions where the only ones that counted. The ones where I'm crying and hyperventilating for hours. But the small ones count too.

Today I had one for absolutely no apparent reason whatsoever. Low blood sugar and no control over the situation, and I just exploded. Everything was fine and a few minutes later I was screaming. Completely lost control over myself.

I often feel like the panic attacks are my status quo or something. Like I would be screaming and crying hysterically all the time if I wasn't actively controlling myself. So much energy goes into controlling
myself and if something happens that takes my energy or attention from that loosely held control everything spills out. All the screams are inside me all the time, trying to break free. And they do.

I hate living like this. It's been like this for years now. Not all the time but most of the time.

I hate myself. I hate everything. I feel like an animal, not a human. Like I'm less than human. I hate it.

Friday 7 August 2015


I have the worst cold. I hate summer colds. I guess I've had too much stress lately, as soon as there's a couple of weeks down time my body just breaks down completely. I'm coughing and sneezing and blowing my nose and feeling sorry for myself. Had a lot of fever but at least that's ended now.

So I'm watching gravity falls and playing a lot of sims 4. Current sims things: basement pools. New update had dishwashers but a bug makes them impossible to put in houses. (Maybe just me doing something wrong. Should probably look into that.)

Current music: Poliça.

Current things I wish was over: all the moving! And my cold.

Moving is going okay I guess but I hate being in transit, waiting for everyday life to start making sense. Soon. Soon-ish.

Tuesday 4 August 2015

comfort and chaos

I'm still in moving limbo. It's pretty crappy but Chris makes it bearable. I'm super sensitive and unbalanced, just waiting, in mental transit. In a few weeks I'm getting my furniture and in a couple of months the last of my stuff. It's going to be amazing having (almost) all of my stuff in one place! For the first time in years!

Right now the thing I'm looking most forward to is getting my hand carders. They are in Stockholm right now, since more than two years. Then I'll be able to blend fibers on my own! I miss spinning so much, I've used up all the fibers that I had. Or all the fibers that I can spin on my homemade Turkish spindle. It's super light weight, made from a chopstick and some plastic from a juice bottle. I have some silk and bamboo tops but I want to blend it. And I have some super rough wool roving that I bought at the viking market in June but there's no way I can spin that on my spindle... need a "real" weighted spindle for that, and hopefully the one I own is among the things in Stockholm too. And if it isn't I recently treated myself to a wooden Turkish spindle! Really looking forward to that delivery!

Alright, I don't know if any of my readers know anything about spinning. If you do, there's some photos in my Instagram feed, @monsterkittie.

Friday 10 July 2015

Rage, pain

When the screams make it out of my body. The screams that are always there, more or less loud inside me. When they break out, claw their way from my chest, through my throat, out of my mouth.

When I lose control.

When I drown in a stormy sea of pain and rage and the dark, salt water blinds me.

When bottomless sadness takes over, a darkness so thick and sticky that I can't breath. Self hatred and self loathing and self pity.

Imploding, exploding. At the same time. The pressure builds and builds until I'm completely obliterated. Until I scream. Until I can only scream. Until I can't not scream. Until the screams are all that's left of me.

I try to scream into a pillow, I remember all those times when I was a teenager and the police came when I had my episodes. I remember the bat that I kept in my room for beating on the bed with because I had broken so much stuff that I liked. I feel scared that the police are going to come again, that we'll lose our new apartment. But the fear doesn't make the screams go away. The blind hysteria. I scream into the pillow and try to stop, I try to get up, control myself. But I can't. I'm crying too much. I try to make sense of the situation in my head, I try to calm myself down. But the chaos grows. It grows and grows and grows and I have no way out and then suddenly there's something to hold on to.

There's something to focus on. The crying becomes normal crying. The screams leave me. I lie down and finally I can relax.

I focus on him.

Monday 6 July 2015

Can't sleep

Napping from eight to eleven on a Sunday night was probably not a great idea but it was unavoidable.

I guess today has been the start of something, really the start. We moved Chris' stuff to the new apartment. We won't move my stuff until later but yeah, I'm going to be moving to Denmark.

I've been stressed out and testy and moody but mostly it's been manageable. Looking forward to getting everything in order.

Wednesday 1 July 2015

Airport air

The smell, like plastic, or an old vacuum machine. My feet hurt and it's warm and sticky in here. Thousands of sweaty people scurrying around, everyone bordering between rude and a forced politeness.

I'm tired of flying. I'm tired of this sweaty airport. I'm tired of security and walking half an hour to get to the right gate only to have it changed and having to walk again.

Wednesday 3 June 2015

Oh right

It's cold and rainy but it is june. Morning comes early.

Things you notice when you stay up late and read webcomics and play guildwars2.

Two weeks until midsummer. One more meeting with my shrink before he goes on vacation. And it's not technically summer yet, based on the rules of certain degrees a certain number of days.

I know, the weather isn't really interesting. But it's like... it's like it represents how I feel. Summer just won't come.

Saturday 23 May 2015

That thing that happens

If I have a lot of things planned. Like three. I freeze. I sit on my bed thinking "I'm going to get dressed and sort my laundry and brush my hair" "I'm going to the laundry room and the market and the shop".

But it overpowers me. Everthing. I can't get dressed. I sit in my bed, around me is some clothes. Stuff to put on and wear. But I can't really. I can't combine them. I can't stand up and start.

I had breakfast and that's good. It's a start. So why can't I just get started for real?

I get annoyed with myself and it makes me even more inactive.

Eventually I manage to trick myself into a small movement, I stand up to reach something or so, and I take the chance to quickly put on a dress.

It happens a few times that I forget to keep moving forward and sit and stare, and I have to deal with it all over again.

Thursday 21 May 2015


Been really tired and stuff the last few days because of my inflamed damn jaw. Crying myself to sleep from the pain and waking up to take pain killers a few times every night. But now it's like it's letting go! Wonderful!

Unfortunately this seems to mean that I now can't sleep because I'm suddenly filled with energy. It's two in the morning.

That's six hours of sleep. That should be okay.

I just hope that I don't wake up in two hours with intense pain, or oversleep and miss my therapist appointment. Ugh.

I want to sleep but I can't even relax! Whyyyyy

Wednesday 20 May 2015

Everything breaks

It's how the world works. Constant changes. Life is destruction and construction in an endless circle. But unfortunately in my case I can't afford new stuff. Like a new computer because mine is getting really slow, a new hard dtive because my old ones where stolen and the new one is getting really slow, nee glasses because I hate these, a new smartphone without tape all over the screen, a new jaw since mine is super inflamed and I look like the godfather. Or at least a dentist appointment. Hopefully social services/welfare/whatever will pay for the emergency visit to the dentist tomorrow.

Until then hearthstone is free and I appreciate that.

Friday 8 May 2015

A little miracle

Today I have been in a pretty good mood all day. This is highly unusual. I have good days, definitely, but they're usually not good all the time? A normal good day I still have a couple of breakdowns and need a couple of naps to make it through.

And good days usually have reasons. Today was just nice for no reason. My hips hurt like crazy but apart from that stuff was... well, good. I'm in bed and it's late (and I got up EARLY! Around eight!) and I'm still feeling perfectly okay.

I did several different things today! I even spent some money on myself without even feeling bad about it, in fact I even felt kinda... good about it! It was a small amount and on crap (as usual, I'm a total crap hoarder) but I felt like it was okay. I can be kind to myself just because. I can treat myself to some semi useless things. I tidied my room a bit and painted my nails and watched buffy with Alexandra and I feel so weird! It's a little bit like emptiness but not negative, I guess I'm just not sad? I'm so unused to feeling not-sad that it's almost hard to handle.

I don't remember when I had a day like this the last time. (Mind you that don't mean much. I have crappy memory. I might have had a lot of days like this and just forgotten about them... but probably not.)

Gonna try to sleep now. Preparing for a bad mental backlash tomorrow.

Wednesday 6 May 2015


I don't have the energy to do anything. I've sorted the laundry and cleaned some makeup brushes and eaten noodles and now I am completely out of energy. I feel lonely and sad and I don't know what to do. I'm hungry but I don't want to deal with deciding what to eat, getting dressed, going to the shop, buying food, cook food, do dishes, socialize with roomies and trying to act like a human.

Maybe I'll get a pizza.

I kinda feel like I should do something. But it's like I'm buried under a ton of rocks. I don't know what it is that I should be doing and thinking about it is difficult and taxing (?).

I wish I could just fast forward until Sunday. I hate feeling like this.


My head is hurring. And my stomach.

I keep thinking about the stuff we talked about and I feel like... What's wrong with me? Seriously? Am I really this fucking stupid? Or do I want to hurt him? Is it a subconscious thing where I try to push him away because he's too amazing? Someone so kind and loving and beautiful will surely get sick of me SO WHY NOT FORCE THAT

The bad guy

I'm a fucking idiot. I hurt the one I love for no reason. I have his heart and I say things and do things that hurt him.

I'm so scared of losing him, I'm so scared of being this person that others don't like.
I'm tired and hungry and everything is fucking horrible.

I saw my shrink today. My head is chaos. Everthing sucks. I feel so lonely. I'm so tired of my life.


Thursday 30 April 2015


I don't know. I write about how I feel, I vent. I want to do that now but I don't even know what I feel. I feel empty and tired. I miss my darling. I feel both okay and kinda down. Slightly restless but extremely tired. Very confused and very... what's the word, like I can't really see a good reason to do anything. I don't want to do anything.

The feeling that I feel most strongly is the one of "MEH" or possibly "nah".

Mingled with a kind of dull panic in the background?

I can't figure this out. I don't even know if it's positive or negative, but that's more and more common nowadays. Before I did so much destructive stuff, it was easy to tell that the stuff that I did was in fact destructive. Now I'm always second guessing. Do I want to stay in bed because I just want to escape from the world? Or do I need to rest? Have I been exhausting myself with meaningless thought traps or have I been trying to accept my emotions? Did I do the dishes? What should I eat? What time is it? Did I have something important to do today? Do I need to save my energy for later or should I try to stay active?

And always the anger and guilt. I should be happy. I wish I had some money. I wish I could get a job instead of being such a huge fucking failure.

I know that that's destructive thinking but I really want to be happy and normal again and not just be such a fucking nutcase! I want to have a job and an income so that I can buy things! Like shoes! All my shoes are broken! Aaaaaaah!

I'm going to bed. I have been really sleepy but now of course I feel so awake. Whatever. I'll just beat myself up over not painting for ages even though I want to (because I don't deserve it! So stupid) until I fall asleep as a way to escape from myself. This is common.

Wednesday 29 April 2015


Been so tired today and now ofc I can't sleep. My head hurts. Been reading (too much?) homestuck. Not been doing all the important things.

I saw my shrink today and I think it was good? I never really know I guess.

Why can't I sleeeeeep this is stupid

Monday 27 April 2015


I am filled with emptiness? How is that even possible?

I don't know what's up today. I feel like nothing. I don't want to do anything. I don't feel anything. I slept for a really long time and then I woke up and now it's been a few hours and I just want to go back to sleep, shut down, not have to feel so empty. But I know that if I sleep more I'm gonna get a headache.

Whatever. Tired is a feeling that I have. Other feelings are not feelings that I have. So I guess I'll have a nap.

Friday 24 April 2015

Beginning of the end

...of the week. It's been a long one. Since I came home on Monday evening a million years have passed. I've tried to be strong but I failed as usual. I fuck stuff up.
I just can't make myself feel like anything matters at all. Like there's any point in trying to force myself to get out just for the sake of getting out. Broke and not really feeling like hanging out with anyone else than people who are close to me and who I feel safe and comfortable with.

Fucking Friday. I want to feel happy. I had a thought of going running before I remembered that a physiotherapist told me years ago that I definitely should not run. My hips are too crappy. Jogging will just make me semi invalid. (Really.)

I can't afford a gym membership to try to make my legs, back, stomach and hip-muscels strong enough to survive running, and even if I could I would probably fail to go. Or use the money on things that I need more. Like a new phone or a new laptop or at least a new cooling pad for the one I have now.

I'm so tired of myself. I want to get out of my own head. But I have no idea how.

Thursday 23 April 2015


Recent mood: angry a lot. Want to scream. Get super tense and it drains me of energy.

What am I mad about? I don't know. Things in the past probably. I get super sensitive and sounds disturb me a lot and I get angry and sad and I try to contain it and it either makes me super tired and I fall asleep or I scream and break down completely.

Everthing is so difficult. I can't ever really relax. Feels like I'm in an iron maiden (the torture device, not the band) and if I stand extremely still I'm almost okay but I can't stand still. Every pinprick hurts so much. Makes me break down.

Every little thing breaks my mind.

Like getting dressed and realizing that it's not warm enough and having to take it off and put on other clothes. (Ten minutes of hysteric crying.)

Or getting home from the airport with a couple of heavy bags and the electronic door lock is malfunctioning and I have to go in through the other door and walk up one flight of stairs to get to the elevator. (Constant mental screaming.)

Or sometimes waking up in the morning. (Mind completely disintegrates and I descend into madness.)

Sometimes anything, dropping something on the floor, forgetting my headphones at home, having too much to do or not enough... any tiny thing can send me into the darkness. I hate it. I get moody and snappy and I hate the person I become. I hate being so angry.

I have supportive people around me though. My therapist is pretty good so far (even though the last session left me feeling like everything is just completely meaningless for some reason that I can't figure out) and my person/partner/manfriend/significant other is super smart and sensitive and kind and understanding wich is so amazing. I'm scared he'll get tired of me since I'm always scared people will get tired of me but I can't remember feeling so connected to anyone before. I love him so much. Just thinking about him calms me down.

Monday 13 April 2015

I hate my life and I want to die

No news there I guess

I am alone and everything is meaningless and people are crap and I am poor and can't afford to eat food and my existence is so completely meaningless.

I focus on that dude and hate myself even more for it but I love him and I don't really have a whole lot else to focus on when everything is like this

I want to die

But I don't want to because of this one person who I love and who loves me back

It's so pathetic, he has a life and I just sit in my room with this heavy sadness pressing me down through my bed, not letting me breathe

And I can't even take comfort in the thought of death anymore

My roomies are eating something that smells nice but I'm not invited I guess, they haven't been inviting me to eat with them lately, I don't know why. We used to eat together. Now I guess we don't.

Seriously there is nothing at all in my life that gives it any sort of meaning expect for him. It's a too big responsibility. He shouldn't have to carry that. But I can't really figure out a way to fix it. Or anything else.

I hate everything. Why is this my life. Why is everything so horrible. Fuck.

Wednesday 8 April 2015

What's wrong with meeee

Why am I awake it's 04:43

Tuesday 7 April 2015

Much too much

It feels like I'm losing control, like the world is spinning too fast and existence is an illusion.

I don't know what I need or what I should do, don't know what's right or wrong, don't know anything at all except that it feels bad to go to bed alone after a few nights with him.

So much things spinning around in my head right now. Too much. Chaos fills me.

He left just a few hours ago and we skyped for two after he came home. And I still miss him so much. When we're together I get stressed out from feeling like I have to make every second count. I can't relax. When we're apart I just want to be with him. I feel stupid, like a stupid kid. He's just the most wonderful person, I can't even explain how good he is. He's so much better than me. He's so kind and loving and caring and I'm mostly a nervous wreck. I'm demanding and grumpy and rude and in general just a bitch. (To everyone! And if I'm not then I'm probably really tense. I don't have the energy to be nice.)

I don't deserve him and I know it's a cliché and I know I'm being stupid but he's so much better than me. He has the most beautiful personality. He's so funny and cuddly and warm.

I want to be close to him all the time. I'm scared that I'm being too ... obsessed.

Shrink tomorrow. And so much stuff happening the next few days that my stomach hurts just thinking about it.

I probably need to be alone for a couple of days. But I won't. To much to do. I hate everything a little.

Wednesday 1 April 2015

Close my mind

Today has been about trying really hard to not listen to the hysterical screaming from inside of me. It didn't really go well. I don't feel great.

Tentacles made out of sticky darkness is reaching out from my stomach. My nervous system is being infected by emptiness. I feel like trash. Like an empty beer can having the air sucked out and getting crushed from inside.

Monday 30 March 2015

"You're the laziest person I ever met"

I realize that I might seem lazy. I know I'm whiny. I'm egotistical (egoistic?) and any form of pressure makes me feel like shit.

The thing is that while it's true that I am whiny I am not lazy. I might be a bad person but I'm not lazy.

There is no outside pressure that can match the pressure I put on myself, and that pressure funks me up completely. I've probably been "burned out" or exhausted-depressed or whatever it's called for four years, and it's only made me more exhausted. I've built a complicated system of behavior to keep myself isolated from others, life, responsibility, myself and the world.

I hate myself and I'm so sick of being alive, of being me. The dude that I love really makes me feel like staying alive but somehow I seem to make more thought traps than ever now. Circular arguments, going around in my head. More pressure. Now it's important for real to become well again! I have to do it! If I keep being sick it's going to be so difficult! I have to get well! NOW!

The feeling makes me exhausted. I have no idea how to get well. But I don't think forcing myself is going to work. I've tried that for years.

So I need to not think about getting better? How is that supposed to help?

I keep thinking about stuff that happened in the past. People hating me, judging me, everything falling apart over and over again. And I keep worrying about the future. How are we going to make stuff work? What if he gets tired of me? It's easy. Everybody does it.

EVERYBODY. He will get tired of me. I need to get better or he will hate me. He will either way. Nothing matters. I hate myself. How can anyone love me if I hate myself?

Not thinking about getting better is like not thinking at all. Shutting down. That doesn't help.

I have no idea what to do. I'm stuck in a loop. I'm so tired.

Wednesday 25 March 2015

"It's like you already killed yourself"

Yeah. My shrink is right. I mentally shut down and waited for the sweet release of death. I figured that once I was dead, it wouldn't matter how long I lived. When it felt like I couldn't stand another day, I just did anyways. Because once I was dead it wouldn't matter. Once I was dwad I would still be dead. If I waited another day, or another year, it wouldn't matter.

First there was the kids. Back then it was my boyfriend's kids, now they're my best friend's kids. I stayed alive for them.
(I still do.)

Then there was J. He begged me to stay alive. And M. I was the maid at her wedding. I couldn't ruin her wedding.

Then there was nothing at all for a while, just some formalities. I wanted to be drunk when I did it so I waited for my student loans to come in. But when they did I had fallen in love with someone and then that person was my reason for a while. I went to live with him for a couple of months, in America. After that everything went really bad and six months later I had no more reasons, and I committed myself, and it didn't really help. Chaos kept ruling and I was so tired.

I isolated myself, shut down, waited for old age to take me. Struggled sometimes,  decided to do it but went to bed instead. It was summer and I didn't really want to do it in the summer, too many people out and about at all times. I shut down more. Figured that if I isolated myself further it would be even better. The less people who are close to me the less people who really experience my absence.

Being sad and feeling guilty is natural, missing someone, but if I play an important part in someone's life then they won't only miss me, they'll be constantly reminded of my absence. So the more I keep to myself the less I'll hurt people when I die. I removed myself from my life without dying.

So yes. I did kill myself, I guess. Socially. I moved so many times. I stopped being interested in reality.

Monday 23 March 2015


Got none. I woke up, got up after an hour, had breakfast, went back to bed. Woke up, got up, went back. Don't want to do anything. Trying to think of things to do. Paint. Watch something. Clean up. Make phone calls. Anything.

Nothing feels relevant. Everything is meaningless. I'm meaningless. I want to stop existing. Not die, just not exist.

But I can't sleep forever. Just need to get started. Do something. Anything.

Don't want to.

Read maybe. I have all those library books.

Sunday 22 March 2015

When he leaves

My stomach hurts. And my head. I have separation anxiety. I'll see him again in a few days, it shouldn't be a big deal. Maybe having a relationship with someone in America made all long distance relationships feel like horror.

I couldn't go with him to the train. I've been acting nuts all day today. Whiny and restless and touchy.

My bed still feels warm from his body but it's so empty now. Everthing feels strange and boring. He's so much fun and so smart and good. He's so kind and loving. He's wise and calm. When I cry for no reason he holds me. When I act like an idiot he forgives me.

I love him. I don't want to be apart from him.

Thursday 19 March 2015


I've had a couple of intense days - weeks even - I can feel it affecting me. I feel empty. I have no will. Really, I want nothing. I get hungry and I go to the kitchen and stare into the frigde feeling completely uninterested in making something, putting it in my mouth, chewing, swallowing. I do it anyway.

I can't link thoughts together properly in my head. I get more forgetful.

I know that I need to take care of myself now. Take it easy today. But I feel bad about it. What gives me the right to put my own interests ahead of others? Why should I not try to be there for the people I care about? The are people who have it worse than me.

But thinking like that doesn't help me. It'll just make me more tired.

I try to do what others want me to do instead of what I want to do myself because I think that what I want is wrong. So what others tell me must be right. There's zero logic in that.

But saying no is really hard. I feel like shit. When someone wants to see me I should be thankful and do whatever is asked of me. I should feel honored. I do. I feel chosen when someone says they want to hang out with me. I feel like I should want it. If I don't want it I feel spoiled, arrogant. Who am I to say what's fun and not? Who am I to prefer the company of one person above another?

On Tuesday I went to the shrink. On Wednesday I went with a friend to a doctors appointment. Today I need to go to the library - and I also want to.

But I have a friend who wants to see me. I want to see her too but she lives about a 30 minute train ride away. I can't afford it but I can borrow her husband's train card while he's at work. Then I need to return before he quits to give it back. I love this friend and I love hanging out with her but the thought of going through this process has the following effects:
A dull pain in my neck and the back of my head
Slight loss of sight in the corners of my field of vision
A feeling like static buzzing in the background of my thoughts

And this should be enough to not feel bad about saying no.

(It's not. I feel horrible. I'm a bad friend and a bad person and and arrogant fuck and I should be ashamed for being so selfish.)

Constantly since I saw my shrink on Tuesday I've had the thought of making a failed suicide attempt to prove that I'm depressed. Because they don't seem to think that I am, since I never tried to kill myself. (Deciding to kill myself, preparing for it, that doesn't count. Only trying counts. Without trying, how can you be depressed? You can't.) If I tried to kill myself I would succeed. I've done a lot of research, I know the classic mistakes, I know the stats, I know what works and what doesn't.

I hate the whole "failed suicide attempts are a call for help but an actual call for help isn't" thing. Failed suicide attempts seem to be some kind of ritual, a passage into being taken seriously. I thought that committing myself and spending five weeks in a mental ward would do the trick but that was a year ago and my doctor seems to think that I'm cured by four years of being ignored. I'm not depressed anymore.

I'm worried that they would make me start taking meds again. I don't want more pills. I want help.

It's no use. I will never get any real help. The cbt is what I get. Four years of fighting, constantly, for my life and I get something else than what I need. I don't think they would get a cancer patient heart meds, or an amputee glasses, but depressed people should just shut up and take what's given. They should be thankful. For getting anything at all.

I think they want us to kill ourselves. We cost less dead. We take up less precious time.

I hate the health care system and I hate my depression and I hate this society with no space for the weak. I'm trying so hard to fight the destructive side of my illness and no one even sees it, no one says "wow that's pretty awesome, now sit down and relax for a few minutes" - instead they think that since I can still fight there must not be enough of a burden on me.

Maybe they're right. Maybe I'm just lazy and not depressed at all. Maybe I'm imagining everything.

Monday 9 March 2015

This dude

He's more perfect than I can possibly grasp, every time I look at him I feel almost chocked from just how good he looks, every time I talk to him I realize over again how incredible he is. He keeps surprising me with awesomeness and kindness and an inner beauty that inspires me more than I can say.

I know that he's amazing and wonderful but he surprises me anyways, by being more amazing and wonderful than I can imagine any person being. I feel like I would fall in love with every part of him individually and combined it's just impossible to not love him even more.

I can't remember the last time I felt like I needed someone so much. It's overwhelming.

Is love like being bipolar?

Springtime in my blood

I wake up at eight every morning (for days now) and manage to fill my days with things that feel meaningful.

Last night I stayed awake until real late and talked with my darling and it was good. Now I think that I might crawl back into bed for a tiny bit even though I've been up for two hours and had breakfast and coffee and stuff.

My plan for today is to clean my room thoroughly. And find some way of mixing watercolors in a spray bottle and maybe some more stuff.

Right after this nap.

Friday 6 March 2015

Rage moment

A few days ago a swedish feminist gamer drew some cool fanart with like functioning clothes on female game characters. I loved it, I hate it when female characters in games have idiotic outfits. It kept all the personality and attitude of the characters but the clothes would actually stay on their bodies if they moved. Most of them were from fight games so movement is def an issue.

A few days later she has been threatened and hated on and criticized by people all over the world.

This makes me furious. I started sweating from anger when I read the article.

I'm also insanely proud and happy that the only person I know who works in game design actually decided to put some functioning clothes on a character in a game that came out the other day. I'm so impressed and also totally infatuated but enough about that.

I can't shake the rage off. I just want to take up space and be allowed to have opinions and a voice. Like everyone should be able to. Every woman. The right to say no to stupid outfits. The right to be overweight. The right to feel attractive. The right to feel beautiful without having to worry about thigh gaps and stupid shit like that. Without impossible ideals. Without being sexualized. Bah. 


I'm better today. I'm not great I guess but I'm out of the bottomless pit of yesterday. I'm shaky and tired/restless. I know what would help but he's in Denmark. 

Thursday 5 March 2015


Everything feels unreal. Like I'm dreaming, like my whole life is a dream. Like my nightmares are real. Chased through a crowd, alone, isolated, afraid.

I woke up at nine and now it's past four and I can't make my brain work. It's like that little cup held my life force and when it broke I lost all sense of meaning.

Or, when I woke up. It just made it more obvious. I can't even throw away the peices. I can't think. My head hurts and I'm hungry and I can't go out into the kitchen and I can't do anything. I feel like I did before I committed myself. Except this time I'm not suicidal I guess.

I just wish this emptiness was not inside me. This growing vacuum. Everthing is wrong. I am a horrible person. I'm a burden.

I know I felt happy a couple of hours ago but I don't remember feeling that. I know I was talking to a friend about it, but maybe it was a lie? I wrote to my friend that I felt happy about a thing but I can't remember feeling happy.

I can't remember what happy feels like at all right now. I'm empty. I hate myself. 


I'm happy. And sad. I'm falling apart. I'm on the verge of a panic attack. My stomach hurts. It's hard to breathe.

That feeling, all the time, like I'm going to be broken forever, never fixed, never whole.

And at the same time a feeling of becoming something new. Something never broken.

I want to cry. The tears won't come. My head has been hurting for three days. I want to be close to my person.

I knocked over my coffee cup and spilled coffee all over the floor and broke one of my favorite little cups. Everthing feels horrible and difficult. My body feels tired. I've been sleeping so much but I keep feeling tired.


I'm so scared. My brain constantly comes up with completely valid reasons why everything will go wrong.

But he just smiles at me and says something that makes my worries dissappear. Like a magician. Like he knows exactly what I need to hear.

I can see his feelings shimmer in his eyes and I can't say anything to make it better, I don't know that magic.

But I love him and it feels like that love makes all the love I have stronger. Like it makes me a better person.

I know none of this is original or unique in any way but it feels like it is. I know I'm delusional from dopamine and oxytocin but have you seen this guy? He has a face and arms and hands and everything. It's amazing.

Wednesday 4 March 2015


I could fall in love with him, I thought. I could love him.
He kept surprising me. I kept surprising myself. He was so perfect, and in my head that "could" disappeared. I love you my inner voice whispered. I couldn't say it. It was too soon. The voice got louder. Soon it was difficult to not say it out loud.

Every time I was close to saying it I kissed him instead. And in the kisses I felt him answer. I love you too.

In his eyes, in his hands, it was there. I love you.

I tried to explain it instead of saying it. Those words are taboo, so hard to say. Instead I said all the other things, all the parts of the feeling. He did too.

Still, saying it out loud felt like a release. The feeling that had come into me and started shining like a sun. I was so scared that I made him say it first but we both knew by then, I think. He was scared too.
It was like all the clichés in the world. It was romantic and beautiful. It felt, still feels, like everything is going to be okay. Or better than okay. It feels like... I didn't even think it could feel like this, I could feel like this. I thought I was too broken.
It feels good.

Sunday 1 March 2015

24 hours

I've really tried not to count the hours but now it's so close! I'm so scared to hope too much and be disappointed. To disappoint. But sometimes it seems like hope is impossible to silence.

Saturday 28 February 2015

Trust issues

How can I trust people when every time I try they're horrible?

Every time I try. It's always so hard and I force myself anyways. I force myself to trust people and I get nothing back. 


Blah blah look at my hair

Friday 27 February 2015


A few days ago I had wine with a good friend and we talked about a million things, one of them family. I realized I have a family of women. I don't know why, but on my mothers side of the family there's not many men that I know anything about.

Let me tell you about my family.

I'm Kristina. My mother is Maria. Her mother is Maj-Britt, and Maj-Britt's mother is Sonja, and Sonja's mother is Kristina.

My mother's father's name was Anders, and I met him once or twice as a kid. I half remember what he looked like. The only thing I know about his background is that his mother was from the south of Sweden, unusual in our northern family. I don't know her name. Anders and Maj-Britt only had my mother together, and then they divorced and went on to have a lot of daughters in other relationships. I have five or six aunts. Or maybe more. I know a lot more about Maj-Britt, the youngest of three daughters of Sonja and Fritz. I don't know much about Fritz except that he was a sailor before leaving the sea and marrying Sonja after his best friend died. I know some stuff about his life, but nothing at all about his family. His life before becoming a sailor is shrouded in mystery.

Sonja was the youngest as well. She had seven or eight siblings, both brothers and sisters. I think her father's name was Karl but the only thing I know about him is that he died when Sonja was very young, on an accident on a boat. Sonja's mother, Kristina, is still the head of our family I think. She died in the sixties, still dressed in the long skirts she bought in the 18 hundreds. (Is that how you say it?) She lived a very long life. So did Sonja, who died right before turning 99, just a couple of years ago. Maj-Britt is probably between 70 and 80 I'd guess and she's still not really doing that shrinking thing that really old people do.

Now I'm gonna see if I managed to get all the coconut oil and bleach out of my hair with an egg and some honey.


Soooo I think I got the bleach out but I'm not sure about the coconut oil... or the egg. Waiting for it to dry so I can put purple in it!

Thursday 26 February 2015

the right direction

I did stuff! I feel good when I do stuff, when I get out of the apartment. Of course. I'm a human. Humans need to not only sit inside all the time.


  • Went to the doctor
  • bought hair dye
  • bought a new tank for the electric cigarette
  • bought some tea tree oil and stuff for making hippie stuff
  • collected my bike from the repair shop
  • made dinner
  • made new dry shampoo (arrowroot, corn flour, baking soda, some cinnamon and a couple of drops of orange essential oil)
and now I have coconut oil in my hair, prepping for bleach and then a brand new pretty color! Yay!

Soooo suddenly it was really late and too late to shower and WAY too late to start hair projects! So I guess my hair will get an overnight coconut oil treatment. 

Wednesday 25 February 2015


Blah blah feelings feelings. I'm hungry and everything sucks and I feel lonely and I'm too apathetic to even get a sandwich

Evil creatures

Nightmares about creatures, huge animals that eat people.

Thanks Obama!


How can I feel so shitty one second and then a few moments later feel like a teenager?

I think it could be related. The excitement causes adrenaline. The adrenaline makes me feel sick. I feel nauseated, dizzy, my stomach hurts. There's fear, fear that he'll realize that I'm just a weirdo, that I'm not pretty or fun or anything good. 

I know those thoughts are wrong. I know I'm smart and funny and stuff. I know I'm worth ... what he gives me.

The fear that I'll mess up.

The physical stuff is worse. The nausea, the shivers, that I can't kill with logic. The physical reaction to the adrenaline.

I guess I can try to do something about it. Something else than just thoughts, breathing exercises or something, like J used to help me do when I had panic attacks all the time when I still lived in Stockholm.

I do feel like a teenager tho. Like soda bubbles fill my body.

Fuck up

This feeling that I'll fuck everything up, that I'll do something that I don't realize, never realize, never understand. That I'll just be hated for who I am.


Tuesday 24 February 2015

All mine

I belong to myself, I am my own and I have the right and the responsibility for my life and my body and my actions.

Monogamy is hard for me to understand. Why is romantic love seen as something measurable and finite that can only be given to one person, while all other kinds of love are viewed so differently?

If I belong only to myself then the physical and romantic attention that I pay to someone else is mine to give and should be perceived as a gift, not something that can be expected or demanded. Not something that can only be given to one person. How can it be special and meaningful if it's expected? If I was to "belong" to someone else, then how is the love I give to that person worth anything? If I belong to someone else then I'm an object to be used. If I belong to myself then my affection is something I can give because I choose to. It should be equally valuable whether I give it to one person exclusively or to several people.

Having romantic emotions for one person does not mean that I can't have romantic emotions for another. I don't work that way. There isn't a simple scale of romantic emotion, friendly love, affection for family members, the end. I love everyone differently. I have different feelings for everyone. I love all of my siblings but they're different people so my love for each one of them is different from the love I have for the others. I love my friends, some of them I'm also attracted to, others I adore, others I just want to hang out with all the time, others I can talk to about anything, others I can pick up a conversation with after months out of touch.

I love my lovers differently. 

I'm in love with people in different ways. Sometimes at the same time.

Monday 23 February 2015

the end of emptiness

I thought it would save me but it's breaking my heart. Isolation is not the way to happiness. Protip. Emptiness will break your heart worse than love. Worse than anything.

I think I was isolating myself so that I would be able to die, without hurting anyone, and so that my depression wouldn't harm others while I was still alive. I was wrong though!

I'm going to stop. I'm going to try to stop cutting people off, pushing people away. I'm going to do my best. If not for myself than for the people who I affect without even knowing it. The people who I make any kind of positive change for by being who I am.

I think the phase I'm in right now is really tiresome to the people in my life since I'm talking about myself a lot but it's so damn good for me. Hearing other people's stories and comparing them to mine.

I'm thankful for my friends.

Saturday 21 February 2015

love and anti social behaviors

I love people so much and I'm so scared of them and I demand more from them than they can ever give. Because I had so many incredible people in my life. People who were honest and loving. "You expect everyone to be Jesus" a friend said, but I don't, I just expect people to be as good as I know that they can be. I'm scared of being rejected so I reject. If I push everyone away then they can't hurt me.

So if anyone in my life does anything that I perceive as "wrong", I will decide that they are unworthy and not trust them anymore. But I will treat others "wrong" and demand that they accept me. This is a "thought trap". A thing I do to stay in my little mental pit of despair because just sitting at the bottom, moping, is easier than climbing, because climbing means the possibility of falling.

I need to demand more of myself and accept others. I do have so much love for everyone but I push it down, deep inside me, until it's rotten and horrible. Then I get it out and show it to myself as some kind of proof that the world is bad. I have to stop doing that, that is just nuts.

Rejection is a part of life. I don't want to be so scared of everything. I can't just sit in my room and never call anyone and never ask if anyone want's to hang out out of fear of rejection and the feeling of being unworthy of other human beings. That's crazy. I really want to figure out how to stop being so nuts.

I'm so happy I have people in my life who stay there and who help me. I'm gonna make it. Let love rule and stuff. I'm gonna be more hippie and less reclusive.

Friday 20 February 2015

days that end in y

So it is friday evening. It's nine. I feel alone and forsaken by the world. But mostly I just had a weird evening nap and feel confused now. (Here I almost wrote 'fell awake'.) Woke up early this morning and did stuff all day! Yay me! What I did (a shorter list than the last one):

  • I washed my hair. This time with one egg, a bit of coconut milk, honey and cinnamon. Delish! Also my hair is pretty curly now.
  • I washed the floors.
  • I finished the white thread for my current yarn project. Just one more spindle-skein-thing of blue left.
  • I finished watching season one of Utopia.
  • I put makeup on my face and went outside! I went to a crap art exhibition opening. Not really that crappy art, or, well, design? A couple of nice pieces of furniture. And free dumplings, so HEY! Then I went home and fell asleep.
I kinda hate being poor and friendless on fridays. I want to get dressed up and get messed up. But I've been wanting that for days. Actual friends aren't central to the equation. Money turning into booze turning into intoxication is what I want. The cathartic thing.


The last few posts has been written while falling asleep, so if they're incomprehensible that is the reason.

Now I am smartphone-less so now I'm writing on my laptop, still awake. But posting before bedtime is my thing now obviously so I felt like doing it today too.

I have silly, giggly, mushy feelings. They took me by surprise, snuck by my defenses, where suddenly just there. I didn't invite them and I felt pissed off and betrayed by my own feelings, but then I thought about it really hard for a few hours and decided that they weren't projections, not based on sexual frustration, not even imagined. They make me smile and it feels like ice running down my back from blinding fear. It's a confusing state of mind. But even if it never becomes anything real, if it dies before it's really come to life, it might be worth it.

I'm bloody terrified. I've had mushy feelings before and it always ends badly. I know it. If it ends tomorrow I'll be sad, and every day that passes will make that potential sadness stronger.

But he has this smile like you wouldn't believe. Stupid, stupid feelings. Drowning out my perfectly logical fear.

I really need to know what I'm missing before I decide to miss it I guess. I need to know if this is something. Maybe it is. Maybe it is something really good.


  • I got a library card today. Yay me!
  • I borrowed like five books. Sylvia Plath! Margaret Cavendish! Woo!
  • The librarian actually purchased books that I wanted to read from the internet like it wasn't no thing.
  • I watched Bee and Puppycat!
  • I watched a couple of episodes of Utopia!
  • I .. uhm... I thought this list was going to be longer. It felt like I did a lot of stuff today. I did do a lot of thinking inside my head so I guess that's a thing.
  • Thoughts! Feelings! Wow!
Now it is supah late and stuff.


Thursday 19 February 2015


Sneakily feelings pop up in me, that I didn't expect. I was watching out and being rational but I really suck at that so here I am, in my bed, thinking about stupid stuff like different kinds of smiles a person might or might not have, small movements, gestures...

Wednesday 18 February 2015

why the frak am I so sensitive

It makes me crazy! It takes so much time and energy to force myself into a good mood - sometimes a couple of days - and when I get into a mental state where I can get stuff done the smallest shitty thing can push me right off balance. I woke up early today, felt good about it, and started doing this mental thing where I just focus super hard on making a sort of schedule in my head, like "I'm going to do the vacuuming, then go to the shop, then get my bike to the fixey bikey place thing." Like getting to where I can do these things takes longer than actually doing the things. And I do the vacuuming and feel great about it (especially since it's a physical thing and I need more movement) and then there's a small thing, in this case a thing someone said, that just takes all the air out of me. I trip and tumble down from that little mental mountaintop. It wasn't anything bad or anything, the thing that the person said. Just something.

Sometimes I have my mental schedule done and I'm trying to build up the willpower to do stuff and then I realize that it's taken too long and everything is too late and I just break down inside.

I'm sick of it. I'm so sick of being weak and fragile and sensitive. My stomach hurts from stress and there's no reason for me to feel stressed out. I want to cry.

I'm not okay

I have no idea why but I've been feeling really tense and stressed out for a couple of days. Think it partially comes from loving people who are going through tough times and wishing I could do something for them. But I can't. 

And partially it's fear. A blinding hysterical fear of everything. Of annoying people who I depend on. Of being difficult. Of being stupid. 

Of being hurt.

Sunday 15 February 2015


I'm deep, my friend is high, together we become... PHILOSOPHY PLATYPUS!

Spent hours on the phone (yeah!) discussing science, connectedness, enthropy, love, meaning... It made me feel happy, because it took me away from my feelings. Or put me in a deeper contact with them. Whatever, science and spirituality is the same thing and they reach the same conclusions. It's beautiful. 

Saturday 14 February 2015

Retire to my chambers

I haven't managed to leave the apartment for days. Hardly even my room. Tuesday I was at the shrink. Apart from that I've been trying to make myself do things - go get my bike fixed, just around the corner or one of the other simple errands that I should, or even fun things that I actually want to do, I was invited to two different parties today! - but I'm mentally crippled, and even tho I can feel pretty good at times I just can't force myself to get out and do things. Even if I wake up at nine and have all day to do a thing, the fact that I need to do it within a specific timeframe just makes it impossible. I try to think in more steps than one; get dressed, eat food, get ready - won't work. I start out doing one of the things I need to do but then I get confused and loser my train of thought. 

Now it's past four. Goodnight. 

Friday 13 February 2015


I hate my life and I want to die. 

So maybe I made a mistake, not taking my meds. 

Before: could not paint. Angry all the time. Feeling nothing. Wanting nothing. 

Now: painting, making, creating, full of pain and anxiety and thoughts. Angry an sad and full of chaos. A week now I think. Needs and desires and hunger, like a hurricane. 

No, maybe not a mistake. I want to die sometimes yes. Not all the time. Too much to create, to see, to feel, to learn. 

The storm inside can take my breath away but it can lift me up and make me feel like a soaring albatross. Full of strength - yes! Strength! - but full of pain as well. 

Creativity and destructivity as two parts of a whole. My arms can turn into wings but that means that I don't have arms anymore. Destruction and creation is only change. 

Yes, I hate my life and I want to die, sometimes. But I have a functional brain now. I can think these thoughts. I'm not empty anymore. 

I'm going to live. I feel confused a lot, betrayed even though no betrayal has happened, rejected when people try to be respectful. 

I don't like being alone but I really do feel like my precence is difficult for others and that it's egotistical of me to want to be in the company of others. 

Also, I don't feel sure that I can trust anyone. Because I feel so sure that they don't actually want my precence. And when I have been rejected once that's proof enough. Proof that they only stand my precence out of compassion, not for me. They want to be kind because it's the right thing. For themselves, not for me. 

Depression logic, thought traps, circular arguments. This is what I need to win over. I have no idea how. 

In my mind I know that I'm not that horrible. In my logic brain I understand that I'm wrong about being unwanted, unloved. I need to convince myself of it somehow. 

I can give you anything you want

If the only thing you want is my presence. 

No one does. I am unwanted and unneeded. The only thing I have to offer is my absence. The only thing I can do to make your life better is to stay out of it, or remove myself from it. 

I really wish I could ignore my own needs so that I could leave everyone, not burden them anymore. 

But instead I sit in my lonely tower, creating my own reality, trying to escape into myself. 

Thursday 12 February 2015


I can't even escape into sleep!?! My constant comfort, my companion! When the world kicks me in the face I turn unconscious. That has been my way out even before this depression. And now I fall half asleep and half dream and those half dreams are just as bad as reality. I can't relax. Nightmares are okay, fighting surreal monsters while drowning in slime is no problem, but this is more half dreams of getting mean texts. I wake up again and realize it didn't happen and that neither did anything else. 

No one cares. I'm alone. 

I hate everything

Guess my good mood is over. Today I was hoping on seeing three of my friends. One of them canceled our plan. One of them decided against it. One of them just preferred other people. 

I'm too sensitive. I really thought this would be a day full of ... Fun. 

Fuck everybody. People are rude, or thoughtless, or just don't care. I know I'm difficult and energy consuming. I know I'm not fun to hang out with. I just wish people where open with their lack of intention instead of letting me believe in them and then be disappointed. 

I should be a hermit. And live in a cave and never speak to anyone ever again. Then at least people can't let me down. 

I hate being so sensitive. I hate needing people. I hate trusting people. I hate everybody and everything. Fuck. 

The problem is maybe that I do need them. Everyone needs people. Both in general and specific ones. But I guess you're supposed to pretend like you don't? Like you'd prefer to be alone but can graciously allow other people near you?

I won't, because that's fucking weird. So being with me turns into a chore I think. I'm not anything that anyone needs. I'm dead weight, a charity case. 

I feel so hurt. But no one really did anything wrong. Not one of these three - some of my closest friends - knew that they became part of a pattern. Not one of them knew that they became part of a three way disappointment within minutes from each other. 

All of them did, tho, do what they and others always do - see me as a last resort. If they had time left from important things. If they didn't find anything better to do. Then they'd def see me! Ofc! I'm def top priority from the list of things they don't really care about. 

I feel so tired. My head hurts. I hate being a sensitive whiny little bitch. I hate it. I hate myself for being this boring fuckhead that people don't really like. I hate the catch 22 thing I'm stuck in.


Feeling not only angsty and annoyed, abstinence effects are also worse and my throat hurts. 

Tomorrow I might see one or more of several good friends. 

It's late again. Ugh. 

Hey smoldery eyes

Yeah you, you know who you are! You with the red hair. You. Here. Look at these kittens. Let the kittens make you happy.

Tuesday 10 February 2015

good news everyone

It's ten thirty and I'm feeling tired.

Feeling tired is pretty unusual for me and feeling tired before midnight... I can't remember the last time that happened. I can't explain how good it feels to quit my meds. I'm not saying anyone else should but being medicated has not really been helpful for me lately. Since three years or so I've been super depressed and super medicated. I have no idea how this will play out, but this completely unexpected tiredness is nice. I also don't feel scared of going to bed, which I usually do. (Because of the anxiety you know? Lying in bed, in the dark, trying to turn off the chaos inside, trying to ignore the black sticky tentacles around my neck, trying not to think, not to feel...)

I'm pretty sure it should be the other way around, placebo or not. I wonder if Iv'e been nocebo-ing the negative effects of the medication, just as I might now be placebo-ing the positive effects of not being medicated? I still feel a little bit of abstinence dizziness and stuff from the old meds, the new ones probably didn't have time to start working properly. But I've taken so many different pills and I really need to know how I work without them. My life has changed dramatically many times since I started taking them... (checks back in the blog archive) since march 2011 I think? Or was it later? April?

That's not three years. That's four. I might have been saying "three years" without actually counting for almost a year. Huh.

Gods it's depressing to check my blog archive. I was so hopeful. Everything was dark and horrible but I honestly believed that it was passing, waiting for it to pass, believing that every day that was not horrible was the start of getting better. Every time.

I still do. I wonder if this insane, unfounded optimism is the core of my problem?

Det blir inte bättre. Varför blir det inte bättre? Varför mår jag sämre och sämre? Det skulle ju bli bättre? Alla lovade att det skulle bli bättre?
"It doesn't get better. Why isn't it getting better? Why am I feeling worse and worse? It was supposed to get better? Everyone promised that it would get better?" - june 2011

Okay. I started taking anti anxiety meds in july 2011. After months of waiting to even see a doctor. I didn't get any regular contact with any doctor, I didn't get any therapy, I didn't get SHIT until... Today? Maybe? I had my second meeting with my new shrink today and the first one doesn't count so yeah, I crashed in march 2011, got medicated after four months of pure fucking horror and since then there's been a whole lot of pure fucking horror.

I've always been sensitive. I pressed myself beyond my limits back then. I tried to be a good girlfriend and boss and those things are probably - maybe - possible to be but it's hard to be a good girlfriend to someone who hates you and a good boss when your own bosses expect you to do impossible things just because they can't be assed to handle the sales department... It's a long story, feel free to go back in the blog archives to around june 2008, or actually even further, to august 2007. That's when a very strange night ended in broken bones. There was two nights, almost a year apart, that still affect my life. I used to joke about tequila shaping my life but I don't really do that anymore...

If it hadn't been for that broken collar bone, if it hadn't been for not being able to work, if it hadn't been for what I did instead and who I met, if it hadn't been for the job I got and the person who inspired me to leave Sweden, if it hadn't been for Ireland, if it hadn't been for that party at my house in Cork, if it hadn't been for that t-shirt, if it hadn't been for that night and all the insane stuff it lead to later, if it hadn't been for those stolen moments in the elevator at work and all the lies, if it hadn't been for that empty year, if it hadn't been for that unexpected email, if it hadn't been for my hopeless optimism and trusting nature, if it hadn't been for the economic collapse and what it meant to me professionally, if it hadn't been for so many small, separately meaningless details coming together and making my bad decisions seem so right... If it hadn't been for everything going to hell at once! And then just never getting better. Then... I don't know. If one of those things had been a little bit different. Then maybe my life would be too. If he had left the party early. If I had remembered my bike. If...

Iv'e been down this road so many times. Too many times.

Now it's an hour since I started writing this and I'm even more tired. I don't feel bitter. Everything that happened happened. No reason, no fate. It just happened. And now I'm here, back where I started, broke in the south of Sweden. But older and in a really nice apartment where I get to paint a landscape on my wall.

With a lot of important people still in my life. And a lot of new important people also in my life. And I have no idea how I feel or who I am anymore.

Whatever. I'm pretty sure no one has the time or energy to read all of my insanely long rants from the last few weeks and this is definitely one of them. So I'm writing for myself now. I must be going through stuff or whatever. Ugh. Who cares.

I think it's time for bed.

The deeper you dig

The more crap you find.

So... Starting out thinking I want "natural" products for my outsides lead to a whole lot of reading. As mentioned. And the tired realization that everything is "natural". Aluminum is super duper natural. Chemicals are natural and things that you find in your fridge might work great but only because they too are actually chemicals. Or at least contain them. 

Yes yes I know this is obvious to people who paid any attention in school but I most certainly did not. I was busy. 

I still don't trust schampoos more than I trust doctors or teachers - or the internet - and I still want to make the things I put on my body. And in them. Except booze. I might be a hippie but moonshine seems like a complicated thing to make. 

So: next experiment will be washing my hair with eggs and making deodorant using mostly things that are kind to skin and "naturally" anti-bacterial, like lavender and tea tree oil. Also some creams and lip stuff, because that's so simple it just feels silly to buy it made. Like buying a knitted sweater or something. 

The whole body odour/sensitive skin/shaving/bacteria-thing is insane, deodorants seem to make internet people go completely nuts. Everyone has extreme amounts of opinions. I feel like anti-perspirants, while maybe not super dangery, is unnecessary for me personally. So is shaving. If you where wondering. I'm sure you where. So as soon as I have a wee bit of eterial oils I'm going to make deodorant for myself, and then not tell strangers on the internet that they should do the same. Seriously, the amount of stupid comments on "no poo"-blogs... "Hey I'm bleeding from my eyes and my skin is falling off and I'm also completely lame now, should I put more carrot seed oil in my Chapstick?" NO. You should seek medical attention, not ask a blogger who knows pretty much nothing! If you have problems with using home made anything, ask science people! Not internet people! Jesus Buddha cupcake, even if doctors are pure evil fuckmaggots they actually went to school and learned things. Random bloggers can not fix your problems. Even if they are dermatologist witches who are actually magical for real they won't be able to tell you what to do if your fucking armpits are itchy. 

Deep breath. 

I'm going to do the dishes now. And then I'm going to do my best to live in a way that does as little harm to me as I can. And hopefully other people, other living creatures and above all the environment. Nature. The great mother. The source of all life. Bees. The universe. Whatever. 


Okay so after another day of not taking my happy pills I feel even more calm and happy. My thoughts are settling in my head and I finished the sky bit of my mural and did laundry and stuff. All good.

The last few days I have been researching "no poo", the practice of washing hair without shampoo, since shampoo is actually pretty harmful to your hair. If anyone can remember that far back I used to wash my hair with only conditioner for a year or so. I stopped about two years ago because I wanted to use styling products and stuff but I almost never do anyways. So intense research has been underway! I'm really exited about it, since I get really exited about stuff in general.

At the moment I'm experimenting a lot. So my hair looks like.. I don't know, troll hair. Zero shine and stuff but really structured? And it smells faintly of chocolate. So that's nice. The interesting thing here is that the internet is full of people who have no idea what they are talking about. I mean look at this. I've seen this tip about bleaching your teeth at home with hydrogen peroxide loads of times. Like... No. Dude. "Just keep it in your mouth for 20 minutes" - that's corrosive chemicals that you're mixing together and putting in your mouth. Your mouth. Just... No.

I'm trying to go by "if I can't eat it I don't want to put it on my body". I know it sounds a bit dirty hippie, but, well, okay. I might be. I'd rather be smelly (chocolate smelly! It feels okay!) than fucking eating hydrogen peroxide. I know those are two extremes but whatever. Shampoo is a really new invention, people have always had hair. I washed it with coffee grounds and baking soda yesterday but that might not be a great idea since on a different page the same mix is used to remove hair. So maybe not that. I also put a lot of lemon juice in it, which was a popular thing for girls to do when I was in eighth grade because they wanted to bleach it but they also made it really brittle, so that might not be super clever either, even tho it might? I'm not sure yet. I think the hair mask of coconut oil and honey that I put in my hair before "washing" it probably protected it a bit. Also it didn't really wash out. Heehee. After arriving at really kind of oily but still clean-feeling and completely odorless hair I wanted to go out, so I put some more baking soda in it, mixed with arrow root and cocoa powder and some cinnamon. I reached the current state of big, matte, curly, fluffy troll hair. I think I'll leave it until some kind of mix of corn starch, arrow root and cocoa powder stops feeling helpful (maybe within... I don't know, a few days, a week?) before subjecting it to more experiments. (I seldom wash my hair more than once a week, even with shampoo.) I'll keep you posted, whether you want me to or not. I'm also going to make my own deodorant! Ever more dirty hippie-warning!

Don't distrust, I still love science. I still own zero cats. I still don't love lentils. But it's a slippery slope, and being an artsy, slightly "eccentric" (if that's possible for poor people to be even), crafty woman over 30 it's easy to go all the way and just start wearing all linen and not eating pizza and maybe taking a pottery class. I already spin yarn and paint murals, so I mean this could just be a question of "when" rather than "if".

And my extreme distrust in doctors probably doesn't help... Welp, tomorrow is shrink day! Better get some sleep so that I can stride in there like the radiant lunatic we all know that I am, full of energy to change my behavior through understanding it! YES I also have zero trust in cbt. As mentioned. Vigorously.

I understand my behavior and I can change it at will. I would prefer to solve my problems. But we'll see. Tomorrow is the first actual treatment meeting. I wonder what he will say about me deciding against chemical warfare on my brain? (And also my body I guess! Altho I really don't give a fuck about my shrink's opinion on my hair.)

Monday 9 February 2015


So the day - and the week - is over. I feel pretty good right now. The whole day passed and I (almost) didn't even cry! I did the things I wanted to do. (Most if them at least.) I went out with a friend who's visiting from the cold north, where there's snow. (Uppsala.)

I didn't manage to force myself to take my meds. I know it's important and it takes time and blah blah but it feels like walking around in a dark cave. I'm safe from the dangers of the outside. I have no idea what those dangers are but I'm safe in my cave. "I can't see or hear anything in this bloody cave!" I call out into the darkness. Far away there's a voice calling back: "if you stay in there for like... Two or three more weeks your eyes will get used to the dark!"

"But I don't want to get used to the dark. Can't I just go outside? I can see the exit from here."

Sunday 8 February 2015

out of my mind

Yeah I am super sensitive and annoying. Like... Ugh. All those feelings, in peoples faces, all the time. I have thought a lot about that hungover-drama-llama-post from yesterday morning. I have resigned myself to the fact that I'm pretty crap at shutting up so trying to fake it and act like a "normal person" would probably at best make me extra super sarcastic all the time. In my mind I get a picture of myself as a snarky nineties goth-girl.

SO. This wasn't supposed to be a post about my feelings. I've been whining enough the last few weeks. I woke up this morning feeling not bad. Like I wanted to get up and do stuff. I did. It felt good. Not among things I did was take my meds. I know I should but I really don't want to throw myself back into that black hole, I need to vacuum and stuff. I'll take it later. After vacuuming and maybe some painting.

I've really been trapped inside my head lately and blogging is my main way of "adjusting the pressure". So all my angst goes here, so that it wont spill out on people around me. I'm not ALL ANGST ALL THE TIME. Even when I am. You know.

Saturday 7 February 2015


Always, forever, never ever. People everywhere. In this apartment there are three others right now, in the apartments under and above us there are people, there are people everywhere. There's a parrot next door. There are mice in the walls, there are pidgeons pretty much everywhere.

There are spiders, insects, bacteria. You are never alone. 

I feel so utterly alone. Like no one has ever been close to me, no one ever will. No one really cares. No one really likes me. 

I'm a whiny bitch. I know. Lots of people love me. Lots of people care. 

Saturday nights just make it so obvious that those people are not here. Not calling me or texting me or contacting me in any way through any form of social media or technology. Not sending me letters. Whatever.

Everyone hates me. Ugh. I don't want to feel that way. This way. But I can't help it. 

Why did she lie? She could have told me the truth, whatever it was. But that thing that she said wasn't the truth. She lied. 

As people do. And after they do I don't trust them. 

It doesn't matter if I lie about everything, about myself. I don't care. I can't trust anyone anyways. 


What if it doesn't help. What if being liked for a mask is as empty as being alone.

Except the difference that I won't be actually alone. Or maybe I will?

I don't feel sure about anything. I don't know if I want anyone in my life at all. 

Why did she lie?

I will lie

From now on. I can't be myself and still have people stand me. The people who can handle me are so few and so scattered across the globe. I can't even stand me so how can I expect others to?

I know that some of the people who do care about me read this, and I guess some people who don't know me, but not many people that are a part of my life will ever see this. That's okay. That's kind of the point actually. 

To the people who know me and have some kind of contact with me - if I seem to feel better it's not true, but don't tell anyone, it's okay. 

I don't know if I even can. I haven't really worn masks at all for a long time. I just always felt like if people like me I want them to like the real me, but now I really just want people to like me. I want to be treated as a normal person. Not some kind of freak. Not a person who needs to be told that I'm strong. 

I can't stand hurting the ones who do care either. I can't stand watching them feel powerless and sad because they can't do anything to ease the pain that I'm in. 

I've lost some really good friends because of this depression. People who cared too much. Who wanted to help but couldn't. Who had to distance themselves because it's impossible to constantly try to be helpful and supportive to a depressed person. It's just impossible. Human beings can't do that. It's horrible of me to put others through that. 

I can't stop being depressed but I can stop showing it. I'll still write about it here and I have a shrink now. I don't really think he can help me, cbt is bull shit. I don't have phobias or OCD's. It's not a behavior I need to change. I hate the medical system. 

Anyway, I'll start smiling and try even harder to not cry and not let anyone get close enough to see the truth. It's not hard. No one really wants to be that close anyway. I don't want them there. They all leave or stay and suffer and both those things are bad. Both those things hurt so much. So I don't think it will be hard. 

It won't really be a lie. Everyone else does it. It's not a lie if everyone does it, it's just what's expected. What humans do. Hide their pain and pretend to be normal. Pretend like normal exists and that it's something else than it actually is. 

Sooo being poor

How come I have no problem taking drinks from people but a falafel feels bad?

Friday 6 February 2015


I get angry from the new meds. I hate it. Because I have good reasons. I should be angry. But I can't waste my energy on that. I'm saving it up for later, and now this new medicine is fucking it all up. It pisses me off even more!

I don't want to be this insanely sensitive, I don't want to be this confused, I don't want to be angry. Not right now. 

In other news: when people tell me I'm strong I want to punch them. Normally I would just feel the sting inside me and shrug it off but now I feel so fucking provoked. 

If I was strong I would have a job. I would do things. I would have some kind of control over my life. Strength is a specific thing, you can't just say that people are strong when they're not strong! How can you think that you're being kind and helpful? Do you not understand what you're saying?

Do you tell people in wheelchairs that they are really good at walking? Do you tell someone who is mute that they speak beautifully?

I'm not strong. Why the fuck would you keep saying that all the time? Because I don't kill myself? Well neither do you obviously? So shut the fuck up. Fuck you, go to hell, stop talking. The only strength I have is that I don't cry, or punch people, when someone says that I'm strong. That I just say NO and refuse to speak about it. Seriously, I hardly leave my room. I stay in bed. I'm really passive about everything. I have no energy at all. I don't fucking eat. What the fuck do you even mean when you say I'm strong? Seriously? What is it that you mean? I really want to know!

--- edit ---
Yeah I totally realize that it might be confusing with a rant like this on a blog called "stronger" but the thing is that I'm trying to get stronger, and that's kind of the point of the blog title. It used to be called "stranger" when I was moving around in the world. Now I'm back where I grew up, trying to grow up again. If I was strong I would have called the blog something else. Like... "already strong, everything is fine". And write about fun stuff instead.

Thursday 5 February 2015

Current emotions

- it's so fucking late. I am a worthless human being for being awake so late. I hate myself deeply.
-I'm hungry? Why am I hungry? Am I hungry? 
Why don't i sleep during the night? What's wrong with me?
-everyone I know probably hates me and many of them laugh at me.
-oh wow I'm actually tired 

Tuesday 3 February 2015

Mixer. Yeah.

My head feels like a mixer. Knives. Goo. Sometimes my thoughts are sharp and clear and good and sometimes I loose my train of thought and just start crying and sometimes I can't handle the world and I want to die over the meaningless injustice and sometimes I hear a really good song and it lifts me up a little.

Sunday 1 February 2015


Today I have...

Gotten out of bed. Had coffee. Felt okay for a while. 

Then, after a couple of hours, everything went back to the horrible, black, tar-like feeling that gets in your mouth and nose and eyes and you feel it squeezing your body tighter and tighter as you sink down into the endless darkness. The pressure of the deep makes your lungs hurt and there is nothing but loneliness. 

Hours go by and life feels more and more meaningless. A constant struggle against constant pain. Nothing matters. Time ceaces to function, you start hating other people for caring and for not caring. You hate yourself for hating others. You know it's all in your head but your head is where you keep your thoughts and it's full of tar now and in the tar there is small whispers telling you to just give up. 

I want to scream but my new meds are kicking in and with them the apathy. 

When I'm medicated life is less difficult. When I'm medicated the pain isn't as stabbing. When I'm medicated the feelings go away. All the feelings. Creativity and happiness and the connection to others. The feeling of hope. The feeling of motivation. The feeling of hunger. (I ate four sandwiches today. Two when I woke up at noon and two around midnight.) Everything but the pain and the longing for death. 

I hate this, it's all wrong and fucked up. 

I hate myself. I hate being alive. Nothing means anything and nothing is interesting and nothing matters. 

I don't matter. But I can't kill myself. I live with a kid for heavens sake. It would be fucking horrible to do that to him. I can't stand the thought of him asking his parents about me and them having to explain somehow. What would they say? How can you even start trying to explain death and depression and suicide to a four year old? You don't, I guess, but I can't stand the thought of forcing them to lie to him either. I imagine being a kid and realizing something is so fucking wrong and not being able to understand what it is or what happened or if you did something wrong or why the grown ups are being so tense and weird. 

So I can't kill myself. And moving out and trying to like, I don't know, not stay in touch for a year or so feels like a really complicated suicide plan filled with unknown elements. Not worth the hassle. Might as well just wait until I get old. One year or 50 both feel like too big periods of time for me to grasp and make sense of. 

So yeah, I guess the point is that I really want to not have to be me but I can't really do anything else at the moment. 

I have zero motivation. For anything. Being awake, getting out of bed, eating, breathing. I hate being alone. I want to not be alone, I want to have someone with me just to keep the worst pain away. Someone to hold my hand and give me a hug when I start crying for no reason. But there's not really anyone to ask. I can't really ask. Or I do, kind of, but I won't force myself on anyone, that's disrespectful.

I am very tired of everything. I think I'm also getting tired physically. Goodnight. 

Wednesday 28 January 2015

Prussian blue

Blue. The feeling. The feeling of Prussian blue. Deep, vast blue. Lonely blue. Filled with memories.

Are we as a race doomed to self destruct? Are we doing anything else? Is anything we do not destructive?

Where is the line drawn between destruction and creation? Nothing really disappears. My body is new now, seven years ago I was a completely different person. Every cell in my body has been renewed since then. Every single cell, every atom has been something else. The body that I had when I was born is something else now. What is it now? A bird? A different person? A flower? A hat? Probably. 

I'm painting and crying and painting and questioning why I keep caring about people. And I answer. 

I need to. Everyone needs to care. We are humans and need interaction, interaction needs care. Love. How can I not love everyone when they could be me? Strangers that I meet are built from the same stardust and dinosaur poop and old trees and forgotten beasts and feathers that I am. The people I love are built from atoms that might have lived in my body. We are physically connected by this little planet that we try so hard to kill. 

I want to paint the feeling of staring up into the summer sky and it's so clear that - even though it's daytime - you feel like you can see out into space, right through the atmosphere. I want to paint the feeling of dizziness after lying on your back and looking up and suddenly feeling like you'll lose your grip of the planet and just soar... 

I want to paint the pain in love and the anger in caring, the sickness of our race, the constant stupidity and beauty that is life. It's worth the pain even though I can never paint that, even though my paintings are infantile and stupid, even though my art will probably never mean anything to anybody. It's worth the pain of wanting to make something beautiful. To having salt in your face from all the tears but still pressing the last few drops of Prussian blue out of the tube. 

The feeling of love is worth the pain of having idiot friends, the feeling of creativity is worth the pain of creativity. 

Today I started taking my new meds. Even though I don't want to. I want the pain because I need the creativity, I want the need to paint a feeling, I need the anger and sadness and frustration to make something even a little bit good. I need to be me if I want the chance to breathe life into my art. And it's worth the pain even though the art is bad.