Update

I’ve been very quiet for a while now. Sorry for that! But I’ve had a lot to thing about the last 1,5 week, and the result of that is not wanting to update.

What happened was that I had an argument with my friend, and because of the fight I had a breakdown. This breakdown made me call my doctor asking for an emergency appointment. And I got one wednesday last week (two days after I called). I was inside talking with my doctor for about an hour or so, telling him about my problems, showing him my cuts, and telling him about my feelings, and all this made him decide to write a letter of recomandation to a mental institution, and send it the same day. So now I’m wondering about how long I have to wait for some feedback after this recomandation.  The answer from the institution will most likely be an appointment for a meeting with one of the people there, and then discussing ways of treatment. Either its going to be admition for 24/7 treatment, or just meetings with a psychologist. Im hoping for the first kind of treatment.

So that means that the people closest to me now knows whats going on. The only person I didnt tell yet is my father, and telling him is what makes me the most nervous. So I’m going to write it all down, and make him read it. Hopefully I will do that tonight. He gets home between 22 and 23 o’clock from work, and then its about time to tell him and let him know. I have to be the person telling him, so he wont hear it from anyone else than me.  It can hurt him even more if anyone else tell him, than if he get the news directly from me.

Wish me luck!

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Something to die for…

For a few days now, I’ve been feeling that a special kind of thought is bullying my mind.

How many tablets do I have to take before it kills me?

I dont know. What I do know is that painkillers isnt good in the long run. And that we shouldnt take more painkillers than what the doctor said. But I can actually take 4 x 500mg painkillers (paracetamol) when I have a headache, and I dont even feel tipsy. And I have to admit that I get curious about how far I can push the limit? And preferably crossing it. One box, or two?

But I’m to much of a coward to try to find it out. At the moment, its just curiousity playing mindtricks on me…

Norwegian or english?

Even though I’ve had this blog for some days no, I still didnt decide if I should write in norwegian or english. I’ve allready gotten in touch with a very nice lade from the US, but I kind of feel that it is little bit unfair that I can read about her life and her stories, while she cant get the same use out of my blog since I’m writing in norwegian?

But I’ve decided to write the posts twice. One time in norwegian, and after a couple of days I will translate it into english when I got the energy for it.

The only fear I have about writing this blog, even if its anonymous, is that somebody that knows me and my story will find it at recognize me. I hope I dont have to worry about it and that it wont happen. Because right now I really need to let my thoughts flow, and write exactly what I feel inside when I am fighting this battle with my own mind and body.

This was an silly article.. *publish*.. Start all over again..

Who am I?

Thats a question I often ask myself. Who the hell am I? What kind of personality do I have? And whats the reason for giving me all this pain and resistance in life?

I dont have to explain it any furter right now. But what I can tell you is this:

I am a girl in my early twenties, and I share an apartment with one of my best friends in the world. Exactly where I live in Norway is better that I keep for myself right now. And thats because I prefer having this as an anonymous blog. And use this blog as a sanctuary where nobody knows who I am. I could be your neighbour for all you know. Or your room-mate. I am your daughter, niece or cousin, without you knowing it.  I write these posts to let out some of the darkness thats hiding inside me.

I’ve struggled with my mental health for as long as I can remember, where most of the time has been filled with shitty mood and episodes. But I’ve also experienced a few good times that I really cant complain about.

I used to go to a therapist, but since the therapist I had was fresh in the game, I couldnt bare continuing to go there. So I was faking the fact that I was getting better, så my therapist would finish the sessions with me. And it worked, not only convincing the therapist that I was feeling good again, but also I convinced myself.  But that bubble of “happines” broke about 3,5-4 years ago, and since then I’ve been struggling a lot.

The last 6 months has been awful, and I’ve had to take a lot of shit from family and friends complaining about me, my economy is bad, I dont have energy for anything, but still I am pushing myself everyday. I have one thought in my mind all the time, and that is to earn money. But I have to try and push that thought away. The pain I feel inside me, cant be explaned in a proper way, other than it feels like my heart turns into concrete, before it slowly breaks into little pieces. And I can feel every crack and the pain when it breaks.

I am struggling depressions, anxiety, nausea, migraine, self-harm and etc. And because of this I am considering the option of admitting myself to a mental-institution. I want to do this to sort out the reasons for my problems, and if there by any chance can be a logical explenation for my returning depressions. Maybe I am bipolar? But I dont know yet, at least not until I get examined for it.

 

Når det å snakke med venner ikke hjelper lenger

Det er en ting som venner alltid sier til deg om du har en litt dårlig dag.

“Snakk med meg om det er noe, jeg er her for deg”

For er det nemlig noe jeg har erfart så er det hva som skjer når man ønsker å benytte seg av dette “tilbudet”.

Jeg hadde en skikkelig opphetet krangel med en venninne for et par uker siden. Hun følte at jeg ikke bryr meg lenger, at jeg dytter henne unna, jeg vil aldri finne på noe. I tillegg tar jeg aldri kontakt, jeg forteller henne ikke noe før hun graver det ut av meg, og hun føler ikke at hun kan kalle meg for sin bestevenninne lenger. Jeg kunne ha ramset opp enda mer av hva hun sa, men det orker jeg ikke, rett og slett. Uansett, jeg fikk nok av å føle meg angrepet og kjeftet på. Jeg synes ikke at det var greit i det hele tatt. Så jeg freste ut av meg det jeg har tenkt i en evighet.

“Bare så du vet det, jeg kommer til å legge meg inn på psykiatrisk snart!!!!” Jeg hadde ikke tenkt å fortelle henne det, for jeg var egentlig ikke klar for å dele det med henne. Men jeg fikk iallefall oppmerksomheten hennes, for hun holdt kjeft. I omtrent et sekund. Deretter spurte hun meg om hvorfor jeg har tenkt å gjøre det. Så sa jeg det rett ut til henne.

“Heidi, jeg er deprimert og har vært det lenge. Jeg har prøvd å si det til deg flere ganger, men du har ikke villet høre det fordi du har vært for opptatt av deg selv og ditt liv. Så jeg ga opp rett og slett. Jeg er tilbake til utgangspunktet, jeg er deprimert og angstfylt mesteparten av døgnet. Jeg har begynt å kutte meg selv igjen. Jeg har det vondt inni meg absolutt hele tiden! Jeg har konstant dårlig samvittighet, ovenfor deg og andre venner, og ovenfor familie. Det eneste jeg får tilbakemelding om er at jeg alltid skuffer de rundt meg. Det virker ikke som om jeg mestrer hverken vennskap eller venner. Jeg tenker konstant på gjelden min, jeg skylder venner og familie nesten 50.000 om ikke mer. Og jeg har ikke engang råd til å leve hver måned, fordi jeg ikke tjener nok. Men likevel er jobben min det eneste jeg føler at jeg mestrer her i livet, fordi det ikke handler om meg der, men å ta vare på menneskene på jobben.”

Selv etter å ha delt dette, riktignok i sinne og fortvilelse, så klarte ikke “Heidi” (falskt navn) ta til seg helt hva jeg nettopp hadde sagt. Hun skjønte alvoret mer enn hun har gjort tidligere, men fikk dette (MIN TILSTAND) til å dreie seg om henne. Hun var lettet over at jeg ikke unngikk henne, at det ikke gikk på henne, og at hun ikke hadde gjort noe galt. Hallo? Jeg forteller den personen som utgir seg for å skulle være en av mine bestevenner, at jeg sliter psykisk, er deprimert og skader meg selv, og hun er lettet over at det ikke er pga henne at jeg har dratt meg unna?

Jeg blir helt svett. Og ikke minst sint inni meg. Hvordan kan hun sitte å si at hun er lettet over det jeg nettopp fortalte henne, like etter at hun hadde kjeftet, klaget og ynket seg over meg? Hun pushet meg over grensen, og hun skjønner det ikke selv engang. Hun påstår at nå som hun vet hva som foregår, så blir det lettere for henne å kunne hjelpe meg gjennom dette. At jeg kan kontakte henne og snakke med henne når jeg ikke har det bra. For å si det slik, etter denne samtalen er jeg ikke så gira på å snakke med henne om det. For hun tolker det jo  på en slik måte at hun er perfekt i vårt vennskapsforhold. Og det er hun iallefall ikke.

Det hjelper ikke å snakke med henne. Ei heller den personen jeg bor sammen med. Hun vet litt av det som foregår, men ikke at jeg kutter meg. Hun derimot tror det er såååå enkelt å fortelle noen at man ikke har det noe særlig. At det er et valg man tar. Tro meg, hvis dette hadde vært et valg jeg kunne tatt helt frivillig, så hadde jeg ikke holdt all dritten inni meg. Men hun får tro hva hun vil. Jeg kjenner meg mer og mer apatisk til hele greia… Jeg orker ikke mer.

Mennesker er falske, urettferdige og kvalme vesener.