Life is Short

Wow. It looks like it's time to resurrect the old blog.
Seeing as I doubt many people (if any) ever read this anymore, it seems like a good place to vent. That way you (if anybody ever stumbles across this eventually) can choose whether you want to read it or not. This has sort of turned in to a place to vent. To get things off my mind.
So much has happened in the past handful of years, I cant even. So much.
I have a daughter now. She's a year and a half old. I have a fantastic boyfriend. I'm going to college and actually managing to keep up - so far at least. Time really does fly.
But demons keep on being dug up, and it gets really damn hard to cope.
I've been learning so much about myself lately. I've realised that I'm an empath. Not in the "I talk to dead people" way. I just feel what other people feel, in a big way.
I've also learned that I "suffer" from severe anxiety. And I'm still in the process of figuring out why.
My doctor has told me that I could benefit from going to a support group of sorts. But not for anxiety. A support group for people who have been sexually assaulted in their pasts. He thinks that that might very well be the cause of my anxiety. He may be right.
I keep turning it over and over in my head, and the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. I never had a safe place, growing up. It doesn't really help that my father left us when I was 7. He was my safe place. And then he was gone.
The problem with all this is, I've learned to cope. But people keep encouraging me to dig up my demons. They say that bringing them back up, working through them, will help me get rid of them for good. I'm not so sure. I'm very, very good at fixing myself. The past 10 years are proof of that. I no longer freeze like a deer in headlights when I'm in a crowd. I can talk to random people. I can perform on stage. But what I can not do, is function like a normal human being. If there even is such a thing as "normal".
I actively work, and hard, on getting myself to the point where I can pick up the clothes on the floor, cook dinner, and take a freaking shower without feeling overwhelmed. And I get there, regularly. But it doesn't last.
Especially when people like my doctor make me say the words that make it all come bursting back up into the open. Into the present.
Like yesterday, for example. When he made me say the words. To go into details. I have now, yet again, regressed. There are things scattered all over the floor that I cannot pick up. There are dishes from last night's dinner that I can not bring myself to clear. There is laundry on the floor that I can not bring myself to fold. There is homework that I can not bring myself to do. And, like every other time, I have no idea how long it's going to take before I'm okay again.
I so desperately want to get "help". If the "help" that so many people are offering will actually do any good. But I don't want to try only to find out that I have already done everything that can be done, only to regress right back to the beginning where I can't even bring myself to look at a new face without running away in terror.
And there's the physical side of it too - the exhaustion, the migraines. When just getting up in the morning feels far too difficult for life, how am I supposed to function as a mother? As a partner? As a student? If this is the price of being well, I have to ask myself: is it worth it? Is it really worth years of being absent from life? Is it worth being only half a girlfriend? Worth rejecting intimacy with my boyfriend because all I want to do is curl up in a corner and hide?
I don't know. I really don't know if it will be worth it.
And that scares the living crap out of me.

My brain feeds me weird things. My latest strange thought was that I wanted to slit my wrists and dance around animalistically in a fountain of blood while listening to dubstep.

My brain is seriously not well.

So it's VD tomorrow. Again. This time I'm taking an active stance against it. This is just one of the things I plan on doing. (I drew this on a shirt and I'm going to wear it all day tomorrow)

On nights like tonight I feel myself spiraling. I don't like to be alone like this. So long as I'm distracted by people hundreds of miles away on these fantastic interwebz I'm okay. Because I've spent most of my life staring at a back-lit piece of plastic, my brain equates low quality moving pictures with real life.

As sad as this song is, it still makes me happy. It's my anthem.

All is full of love, all around you.

I may be the bitch in every scenario... But being able to feel the resulting emotions of my actions in crippling clarity is punishment enough. I don't know how I could do that to someone I loved.

OH.MY.GOD. I didn't realize how hard this radio silence would be. Blearagh.
I now have nothing to do when I log into facebook. No new notifications to check out and no new comments to reply to. It's really starting to get on my nerves. Ugh!! The question is, can I hold out? Well can I? I don't know. Hopefully my stuborn side will kick in and I'll get through it like a boss.
Maybe.

I haven't even done any creeping yet today. I'm so proud of myself. :D
Maybe I can get through the whole day without any first grade creeper alerts. Now THAT would be something to boast about. My super duper self control skillz. <-- like a boss.

And I just have to say it one more time. I'll make it through today admirably... LIKE A BOSS.

Sometimes I think about killing myself. I want to. I really do. But I never actually do it. Why?
I always come to the conclusion that there's too many things that I want to do still.
But I still want it to end.
Every day, I want it to end.

There's choices that are just too hard to make. Or too hard to cary out. I'd rather just not exsist anymore. It would fix so many problems. But I can't just not exsist anymore, yet. I still have debts to pay off.

Sometimes I look around and realize how far I've come from what I used to be.
I remember how it was, just two years ago. I was freshly inserted into society, like a newborn trying to get a grasp on what this big, cold, wonderful world meant. And all I wanted to do was to be a part of it. A true part. I didn't want to be different anymore. I wanted to fit in.
Today, standing out front of the little school I've been back at for less than a month, the same thought plagued me. "When will I ever fit in?" Till it hit me. I do fit in. In a twisted, skewed way, I've become "one of them".
When I think back on my past, it seems like a distant memory. Something that's not altogether real. Possibly just a figment of my imagination. Maybe I suffered from a serious concussion at some point two years ago, experiencing a twisted version of my past while in the clutches of a coma. Maybe.
But then, there are others that know the truth. They validate me. They help me to remember that I'm not crazy. That my mind hasn't fed me thoughts so sick, that if they were the product only of my own brain I could be put behind bars. That's the fantastic thing about being a victim. The thoughts in your head were caused by some third party. Not you. It's not you that's sick. It's someone else. At least that's what we're told.
So at times like this, I look back. I compare my lives. Because that's what they really are. Two entirely seperate lives.
I suppose I can't entirely complain about my past. I can't throw it out entirely and turn cold and bitter about what was taken away from me. Because a lot was given at the same time. In the form of some sort of sick joke, I've been given something priceless.
I will never fit in 100%. But that's not something I'm sad about. I have something more than the average person my age. I've seen things that most people, of any age, have not and probably will never see. I've experienced things that have tempered me into the person I am today. I see the world through different eyes. I am critical; I am logical; I am a fast thinker, because I have needed to be so. I take nothing for granted. I may let the world quietly slip by at times, missing opportunities that I should have caught, but no one person is perfect.
The difference is I can see it. I can see the bigger picture.
So when people tell me that I'm special, I try not to figure out why they're obviously wrong. It's hard to do, because I've always been told that it's not me. That I am nothing in myself, when the truth is, it's all me. It's the choices I've made in life, both the bad and the good, that have made me who I am. That have made me capable of what I am capable of now.
I look back, and still feel like the young girl from two years ago. But that's not right, because that's not who I am anymore. Yes, I'm still young, but with every day, with every passing minute, I am learning something that tempers me. Ever evolving, I choose my own path. I choose - I, not anyone else - where I go from here.
It's frightening, yes. But it's also exhilerating.

Sometimes I feel like my life is permanently on pause. Like somewhere along the line I took a break from whatever it was that I'm supposed to be doing right now. And that thing was awesome. I cant quite remember what that awesome thing was tho. But as soon as I figure it out I'll let you know.
It may even involve you, me, a bottle of tequila and lots of sushi. Ya never know.
^^*CREEPER ALERT*

I'm in love with this song.

I want to post my latest danish assignment, because I'm very proud of it. Both the language skillz and the writing style. But it's too personal and could be taken the wrong way by some people. Hmm...

Recently, my mind has been plaguing me with the possibility that I am a bad person.

IZZZ ma birthday in two saturdays HO´s!! Ya know you love it.

Theres this super funk called IB. A college of some sorts. Its not bad and thats what im doing with my life at this present time. I know Im a raving ass for not updating this blog more often. I dont think ill apologize again tho, because im sure that my apologies are becoming more meaningless the more i dish them out. But seeing as Im amazingly enough giving twitter more of my attention during the extra dull classes, I feel I owe it to this blog to shower my priceless golden attention on it as well cuz, lets face it, twitter doesnt really deserve it.

So i flunked out of X-factor in the precasting. PRECASTING!! My god... I thought i would at least get through that... Guess that goes to show you never know what will happen. And i flunked out because i didnt "connect" with the judges as an audience. Note, they DID quite like my singing voice. But apparently that wasn´t enough for them. Shame. What to do. Better next time... if there is a next time.. we´ll see, wont we?

So this is it.

On the 28th of October, exactly one month from today, I'll be going to Århus for the pre-casting for X-factor. And im so bleeding nervous already I can barely type. Or maybe its just excitement... im not sure. I just hope that all the shakes and quivers run themselves out before the 28th, and that by then ill be as cool as a cucumber in the fridge and ill blow their minds to never never land. One can hope...

But for serious... i hope i make it. And all of you can do some serious wishing (or praying, if thats the kind of thing your into) that i do magically and that my nerves stay where they are (instead of attatching themselves to the ceiling and doing the polka)...

Im just waiting... and hoping... the worst i can get is a no... and in that case ill just go back again next year. and the next, and the next, until they let me through.

Cheers for winning.

Life is dull and boring without hardships to make it unique.