Whoaa, today I’ve been inside an actual gym for the first time in.. 4 years, minimum! If there is a place that has made me feel both uncomfortable and anxious, the gym was definitely it.. But today it went okay, and that made me realise that I have really made huge fucking progress and that makes me so happy 😁 ‘Cuz man, I’ve felt so stuck for years and all my efforts just felt like banging my head into this great unbreakable wall.. But finally, the cracks are beginning to show, and I won’t stop now- if it takes the rest of my life, that wall is going down.
Well, could sure need some of those 😅
Today’s outfit.. Full on grandma-style, or so I’ve been told 😅
Teardrop-necklace from Swarowski, found it used on Ebay for like 10 $ years ago.
Felt like going full on dragqueen on my face.. And did fake freckles, because I’m craving spriiiing and sun.. 😎
Now I’m hanging with my boys, and my oldest nephew asked me «Suja, did you paint your eyes blue?» and I said ‘yep’ and he goes «Goofy Suja!» 😂 I get that a lot from him 🤡 Makes my smile go round every time 😁
Listen, you think that as a woman all I want in life is for men to look at me and say I’m beautiful. For them to look at me and say that I’m fuckable. Well, to hell with that. I want men to look at me and think «If I disrespect her, she will light me on fire and then spread her wings and fly far away from the ashes». I am not angel-material. I am wild and free and not afraid to spit fire. Maybe dragons are a product of imagination, a beautiful and terrifying product of fantasy- but I still, somehow- have dragon blood in my veins, instead of angel wings on my back. And I’m not gonna change that, not for anyone, not for anything.
Aaand felt super-ambitious and tried to draw a dragon on my face, but failed miserably 😅 I WANT A FACE-TATT SO BAD! But I’m not gonna attempt to do it myself, that’s for sure..
Ok so my little project of ‘No spend february’ has officially gone to hell.. But hear me out (who am I kidding, I feel the need to justify myself to myself here 😅) things have been really difficult when it comes to my work situation. I have made it difficult, because at some point I just started doubting and criticizing myself, and that had my anxiety going through the roof.. To be honest, it got so bad that for a while I wasn’t really sure if I could keep going. But quitting like this, when I’m really shit-scared and it is soo tempting to go back to the safe comfort zone of doing absolutely nothing- Hell no!
I used to do horse-back riding when I was a kid, and there is this saying that «If you fall off the horse, you get back up». I’ve been thinking a lot about this saying lately, I do NOT want to give up this job for the sole reason that it scares me. GET BACK UP! I’m proud of myself for doing this. Severe anxiety is no joke, but it’s stolen enough from me as it is, I don’t want to make any more sacrifices to this weak little devil in my mind.
I decided to stop by H&M to get those damn blingy earrings I’ve been talking about as a reward. I can’t and won’t reward myself for every little thing that I do, but this was kinda a make or break moment for me..
And of course this happened..
I’ve wanted a shock pink pair of pants for years, and I finally found them, 199 NOK. I don’t fit a lot of my pants anymore because of weightloss (still got hips and thighs like a hippo, but my ass is gone 🙄) so I can justify this buy.. I gotta hem them, obviously. But honestly, I’m happy to have another sewing-project, because it is fun.
I’ve wanted these earrings for months, they are SO pretty with the dangling ‘tear drops’.
I couldn’t resist these.. It doesn’t show that well, but they are snakes coiled around the pearls. I love jewellery that is inspired by nature and the animal-kingdom as you may know by now. And I just gotta give props to H&M’s creative team, because they really do make a lot of cool, unique stuff to a very affordable price. Both earrings were 99 NOK.
Everytime I do something like this (buy more than I planned) I always think to myself «Well, it could’ve been drugs..» I am well-connected on the dark side, let’s just put it like that.
I should be making dinner now, and my Casa is not on fleek, but honestly like the old lady I am.. I gotta take a nap 😅 Just a liiiiittle one, and then I’m gonna make a healthy dinner, shine my home, and do a little work-out, and then I’ll call myself Superwoman of the day 😁
Hope you had a great start of the week, and may the rest of it be great 🌹
I spent the day with my fav soon to be 4 years old guy in the world 🥰 Today we’ve been tiger and panther (we read the Junglebook, and we were not the good guys- we’ve been hunting for Mowgli to eat 😂). My nephew is just the coolest, so creative, and I think the most beautiful sound in the world is him, laughing with all his heart. God, how I love this kid!!
I mean, this smile could light up the Universe ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
I’m so grateful that I get to be auntie Suja ❤️ I hope there will be more kids in the clan (that’s not a hint, it’s a wish and a demand 😁)
Another thing that is fun to play with: Makeup! I bought a white eyeliner real cheap from MakeupMekka, it’s on sale now at 20 NOK at their site (it’s called Candy liner, Icing sugar) and I had to buy some extra (FUCK ME, there went no spend-february!) because white liner is a lot of fun, and I feel you can go extra crazy because it doesn’t show up as dramatic as dark colors would..
I’ve been thinking about my career-options, and I REALLY want to pursue something that involves an actual education, because I’ve always felt really dumb and it would mean so much to me to complete anything that leads to some kind of title.. Not because of the title itself, but it would mean I have worked hard to actually learn a craft. Makeup-artist would be so much fun, and I thiiiink it could be compatible with my bipolar-illness, at least more than a lot of other professions.
I always wanted to work in the health-sector, and I’ve pursued that in the past, but together with my therapist I’ve had to conclude that it might not be ideal considering what I’m dealing with when it comes to my own mental health. Yeah, it sucks but that’s just how it is for me right now. I have frequent and severe outburts of mania, I hope it is possible to work on it and stay stable for longer periods, but nothing is certain in life and maybe I can, maybe I can’t.
If I should embark on becoming a makeup-artist and actually go to school to learn the craft, I would have to move though. And that’s also risky, because I have a good support system here, I know the drill and I know where to go and who’s gonna be there if my brain boils over again, and (and this is maybe the biggest security I have besides my own brutal honesty) I have a family that sticks up for me and there is honest communication about my warning signs and they tell me up front if they start guessing where my mental state is at.
Plus, moving somewhere new=major stress factor. Going to school and have to perform= major stress factor. Major stress factors= Higher risk for manic episode. Baaaah, I try not to feel caged by my illness, but I do tend to feel it whenever I start to think about the future, about dreams and ambitions..
So yeah, I just have to chill about that stuff I guess, things are ok now and I have a job and there’s gotta be possibilities out there and not just locked doors at the mental hospital right..?
Focus on that. My life is getting better and better because of my hard work, dedication, and because I am doing my best at being brave.. I am doing the best I can with what I have, and that to me is success. I am kinder to myself, I am being creative and for the first time in a looong time I feel like I am starting to love my own mind again. I really hated that part of me for years after becoming bipolar, I hated the creative part of me because it made my psychosis so believable and I felt so stuck in those bizarre ways of thinking and the ideas and delusions I came up with.
Now I have my brain at it’s best, and I’ve missed that so much. I was scared that the best part of me had died. But I’m still here, and I am still.. ME. I want to hold on to that, hold on for life.. So that even if my mind fucks with me again, I can still go back to being me once it’s over with.
Right now, that is my biggest ambition in life. And that is good enough for me!
I’ve had these moments the last days where I’ve just felt.. Gratitude, I guess. I’m grateful that this is my life right now, that for the past six months there’s been steady progression, I’m grateful that I made it through Christmas without having a manic episode, I’m so fucking grateful for the freedom I have right now, that it’s something I’ve fought so hard for for so many years.. I’m grateful for all the difficult times, because they have truly made me appreciate a lot of things I’d probably take for granted if I didn’t know better.
I’m also grateful for not feeling that massive fear of becoming sick again (and this is not me saying that I want it to happen), I know that when mania strikes again- and eventually it will, I have to be prepared for that- I will handle it. It will be hard probably, but I no longer think that it will break me, I have faced it so many times now and I know that if I hit rock bottom I will eventually claw my way up again.
Speaking of freedom, I’ve been swimming two days in a row now. I’m not gonna start again with what a big step this is for me and the complicated relationship I’ve had with my body, because I’ve adressed that a lot in previous posts.. 😅 But it’s another thing that makes me feel really grateful!
Not an interesting (is it ever with this basic bitch 🙄) outfit today, just sweats. But a good classic coat and quality shoes, and a fancy hat kinda helps..?
I have this script in my head, and I kinda want to share the plot here because I think it’s pretty funny (and prob offensive as fuck if you’re religious so stop reading NOW in that case ‘Cuz you will NOT like this..) It’s obviously just a rough draft, but.. If I ever somehow stumble upon a pot of gold I will make this a movie for sure 😁
I kept seeing «movies» or just film-like scenes in my head when I was really psychotic, and I always thought some of them could be really interesting ideas for a full film/book/whatever.
One of them was this angel falls for devil-thing, like this really erotic and really forbidden fantasy thing.. So now I have kinda finished it as an entire story with a beginning and an end. Here’s the plot, in short: So god really does exist in this story, but he is anything but good. He has a team of plastic surgeons and picks his angels based on who will become the most beautiful after his team of surgeons have altered them to fit his impossible standard of «perfection». The angels are supposed to be «good» as in submissive and they exist only to pleasure this wicked god-figure. Most of the angels are fine with that, because they fall in love with their own reflection when they see that they are now physically «perfect» and they are filled with plastic here and there. They all pretty much accept that their only mission in life is to be admired for their looks and used for sex. They are willing to be objectified and exist only to please the male gaze, because this makes them feel powerful- and they ignore the fact that they are being used, and because they are in love with what they see in the mirror they become more and more devoid of anything that recembles a personality, and there is no urge to find a deeper meaning with life other than simply reaching what a man has decided to be the epitome of physical perfection. (Yeah, what’s happening right now with plastic surgery becoming more and more the norm in society, and more and more women strive to alter everything about their appearance being «perfect» is freaking me the hell out)
BUT then comes this new candidate, and she is immediatly told that she will undergo a complete «makeover» because as she is she is not anywhere near the «ideal», acne, small saggy boobs, not a big enough ass etc etc.. But she refuses to do this, and does pretty much everything in her power to resist and rebel against anything her «god» tells her to. She causes havoc any chance she gets, and eventually ‘god’ has no choice but to give up, because she is impossible to brainwash into being one of his ‘perfect props’, and he decides to send her to.. Hell, of course.
She meets the devil, she falls for him because initially they seem to share the same qualities: Individualism, same morals, the desire to oppress against a regime that is utterly corrupt.. (insert a lot of reeeeally hot sex-scenes here) and tries to convince him to go to war against ‘god’ and his plastic angel army but he fails her several times, and eventually she realises that even though there is so much chemistry and they have amazing sex, in the end he is not as brave as her and he is not willing to fight and bleed for change to the degree she is (yup, been there).. So she abandons him and venture on by her self, and she discovers that the dragons she has read about in the forbidden books really do exist but has been banned to the shadow world by ‘god’, and the devil has allowed this to happen, even though he is originally selected by nature herself as their protector.
She finds the dragons, talks them into fighting for freedom, and they become allies in the war of the universe, overthrowing both heaven and hell.
In the end, she decides to live with them, she realises that they are more similat to her than any other living thing- they are wild, they have courage, they are ment for freedom, and they are brave and loyal. She finds ultimate freedom, she remains independent, and she lives like a savage happily ever after.
Ok, so that was not really short 😂 But now it’s out of my head and down on virtual paper.. Oh, and I had to draw my angel who doesn’t want to be an angel but a dragon 🐉
I was going to draw a closeup of her face, and then one full figure of her outfit (because of course she’ll have a bad ass wardrobe) but I have to do boring adult things now and stop playing around (that’s what being creative in any way is to me- to PLAY and that’s why I love it) so if I get around to it I’ll do an update on this post. Aaand before I wrap this post up, I just have to add that the soundtrack would be heavily filled with tracks from Within Temptation’s album Resist (can’t believe no one has done that yet, because we are talking EPIC songs here..) Just listen to this
Ok, now I’m gonna go back to being a really boring adult and adulting 😅
You have a part of me I can do without I’d rather bleed than cry actual tears Over these messed up affairs
You talked smack, I heard it, you bite, I spit back. What happened to your cojones, is this how you attack? You did me dirty, I gave it all I had. Put me on a pedestal, cut it down and watched me fall, now word is you hate me- Who even cares..?
You quit, I lost my wit.. I’m so sick of this skit, how we were closed knit then we split. Blink of an eye, still you can’t tell me why.. Who even cares..? Used to dream about you, now you haunt me in my nightmares. All these lies through your perfect teeth, not one of ‘em was true. So damn you, fuck off, and I hope I haunt your nightmares too.
[Remorse]
Said I hope you choke on your coke
Like your issues were some kind of joke
I know just how deep your wounds really go
But you cut me loose
That was such a blow
to my fragile ego
I’m sorry for wherever it was I fucked up
I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough
You truly were one of a kind you know
And I don’t have a backup
Got under your bestfriend just to get over you
Can’t believe the messed up shit that I do
No wonder you doubt it was true
When I said I’d really fight for you
When it came to it I just broke down
Deleted your number from my phone
Man, you should know it really hurt to the bone
I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alone
I’m sorry for whatever I said that got us fucked up
I really try, but it’s never enough
You were one of a kind, you know
And I don’t have a backup
I hope you stay sane and safe
I hope you get clean
I’m sorry for what went down in the aftermath
Probably doesn’t matter to you, but I never did it to be mean
You ment something special you know
I really did miss you the moment you left
I think I loved you more than I was able to show
Ain’t that many people that has truly mattered to me
I am terrible with dates (numbers in general) and I had no idea it’s Valentines day today until my friend called and asked me «What are you doing for Valentines day» and I was like eeehm, when is that and am I supposed to be doing something??
I am not a relationship-person. I’m not sure I even believe in everlasting love where there is also lust. Those two make things complicated after a while. I’m not sticking around with someone where the is no spark anymore. If you are in a monogamous relationship then the sex-part is the only thing you share with your partner that you can not get anywhere else. It’s important, and maybe as a woman I’m not supposed to feel that, but fuck it I do. I’m not sticking around if the lust-part is fading or completely over and can not be rekindled. I’m not holding on to something where it’s not fun anymore, I’m not holding on to someone that gradually change for the worse and starts treating me like they don’t appreciate me anymore.
And same with me, if I can’t and no longer feel like giving you the best I have to give, then there is no point anymore. I honestly think it’s a skill to be able to be brutally honest about «where are we heading» and being able to end a relationship before it gets real ugly, because that is happening to so many. I’d rather call quits before the cheating, before the ugly name-calling and fighting, before the love turns to hate and enemies for life. To me, that is what being truly loyal means- respect someone enough to say the painful words «this is not working for me anymore» and then be able to hug and walk away with gratitude for what has been. But that’s just how I see it, and I know not many share my vision.
I do like a theme tho’, so I had to dress the part..
This sweater is so cute with the details of transparent hearts.. It’s from H&M Divided years ago.
I think today is a day to be grateful for the fact that I live in a country where the women before me battled for womens’ rights and therefore I can live a life where I don’t NEED a man to have financial freedom or be able to walk around safely, that I can dress how I want and fuck who I want, that I can choose the career I wish (if I ever figure that part out) and that I can opt out on things like giving birth to ten children because my only worth in life is that I have a womb.. I am grateful for my mum who walked out of an unhappy marriage (even if I hated her for it back then, but I didn’t get the full picture) and who’s always been the best rolemodel I could wish for as an independent, strong woman.
It’s also a day for me to be grateful that I’m not stuck in a relationship that isn’t happy or healthy, that I don’t have to deal with someone who’s toxic because he happens to be my baby daddy, and that if the right person happens to come in my way down the road I am completely free to go all-in in that..
If you are single today, I hope you join me celebrating this day like I do 🤗 Make yourself a good drink, order take-out, pop a bag of popcorn and put on good music, and celebrate your relationship with the most important person in your life- and that’s you! Sure, I am a complicated person and battling a lot of demons, but heck I’ve been and keep being there for me and that counts for something!
I can’t find the words. They’ve always been there for me, maybe not when the world collapses, when the pain is all I can feel, when the darkness creeps inside my skull and makes me go blind and deaf and numb, or when the madness takes over and turn me into my worst nightmare. But I know they exist somewhere, that I can claw and peel until they come back to me. Just like when I first learned how to write. It’s about trying and trying and eventually you force them to make sense.
I think I discovered as a child; that if I could express it, then maybe I could survive it. Even if it was just saying it to myself. Words can be a lifeline. First they got me in trouble. They made shit worse. Way worse. And sometimes it’s best to shut up. Stay quiet. But the harder they made it, the louder I screamed. I’ve always been stupid like that. And then I spent years not saying much. There wasn’t really anyone that were interested in listening. So I started writing the damn words down, just for me. They became my allies. They became the lifeline.
But lately I’ve felt like they fail me. Or like they are not enough. I write it down, the ugly, the messy, the hurt, my fears, my regrets, my shame. And I look at them, and I get pissed, because they are just words, they are just MY words, and they came from me but do they really give me anything in return besides just fucking being there? And then I wonder if someone reads them, would they even know what they mean? Do they get what I’m trying to say, what I’m trying to cope with, do they understand what they mean? What I mean? Or do they just think «Oh, the bitch is crazy again». And I never used to care what anyone would think about my damn words, they were MINE and honestly I don’t think anyone really listen to me anyway. And I thought I had made my peace with that. Just talking to myself, just throwing the damn words out into the pitch black infinite Universe, because I am alone in it. I don’t know why I am saying that when I can see the rest of you, all of the human race, but I am alone in it. I don’t know, maybe that’s what all 7 billions of us deep down feel, that we are ultimately alone. I hope it’s just me. I hope it’s just me right now. It’s just that I felt it as a kid too. And kids tend to see things as they are.
Alone in that dark room, and just my trembling voice. But it was still my voice. I heard it. I heard what I had to say. I HAD something to say.
I was invisible. But the words made me visible to myself. That’s what they used to be for me. I’ve lost myself so many times, in so many ways, but I clawed, I peeled until I could find the words- the lifeline- and if I could string them together, if I could make them make sense to me again, then they could make sense of ME again.
But now, now somehow they are not enough. They are just my damn words, my repetitive empty words, and I had to claw and peel until my fingers bled for them to even be there. And I stare at them and stare at them and then they don’t even make sense anymore, I can’t tell if I’m making sense anymore, because there is just me to make sense of them.
My empty words. My empty words that I can arrange however the fuck I want and still they can’t see me, can’t hold me, can’t love me, can’t tell me that after all is said and done and written down I am still me. They are my words, and that doesn’t matter anymore. They don’t matter anymore. There is no one to read them, there is no one to say «I understand what you clawed and peeled to say» there is no one to say.. Say anything at all. And maybe that’s the thing here, my own words are just that- my own, and I think I really yearn for someone else to say them. For someone else to make sense of things, make sense of life, make sense of ME.
I am alone in a dark room, and I say nothing. I am invisible. I am invisible and I am still here, and that’s the worst thing. I am still here.
