Oh, I almost forgot

Oh, I almost forgot something here. It was my birthday yesterday, though I wasn't happier than I would have been on other days. Well, maybe I could do something later? Oh, it was the day before yesterday that was my birthday. Wow, how many words there ended with day?

Well, I guess I was right

Hi, I'm back to leve some more. I have just gotten into another breakdown again. Oh yeah! I have crying spells, huge bursts or long attacks of angst, my heart feeling as though it will shatter and unusual highspeed thinking. And I'm afraid because I know I'll someday have to leave my home... because that's what it really is... my home. Honestly I don't want to be anywhere else than beyond the four walls that always have protected me. I just want to stay. Please don't make me leave ever! Not even the OCD-Voice can ever make me leave. Please, when I die, let me die here. I haven't got a place in the whole wide world that is my home more than here and I can't live on without it. This means more to me than I ever could have imagined possible. It hurts me to think it can't last through my entire life. But I'm feeling so frail now and I don't know how much I can take before breaking once again. I've never been in love, I can't be happy, it's very very hard to feel sympathy, I'm always sad, I'm emotionally numb. That is why I need to be home, always.

Here I am again

Hi there again. I have been at the psychiatric clinic section one from thuesday night to today, thursday. I am suicidal and I have drunk paint. I'm not kidding. I want to go away, because I can't take this. I'm completely empty inside, my core is asleep. This didn't work unfortunately, since I didn't do a thing. I got to calm down, wich was great. I got some time to sleep wich I really needed. Unfortunately I'm still incredibly tired, but what can I do?

I confess

Well, I have sunk to the lowest level, so there's no longer anything to loose. Here I'll right now confess all of the things I never did confess. Well, let's do this. I have got a strong fear of Tinnitus. I have got some degree of Tinnitus, but I don't want a lot of pointless meetings and ear examinations about it. I know there's no cure. I have had it for quite some time and this is one of the reasons why I don't like silence very much. I usually keep fans on, plus they deter nightmares. Well, there's a lot of fear inside of me. I have got a lot of angst related to it and it's becoming way to heavy to bear. It hurts me and it doesn't seem to go away. The confusion in my head can't seem to clear. I am scared of the prospect of forever and eternity. I'm scared about the thing with heaven and hell, but I try to push it away. I don't think it would matter on whatever place I'll come to, but it still scares me. Hell doesn't sound to me as if it is as bad as they think, but if heaven is some kind of suspended air-thing where all that can be done is to just be there it'd be torture non the same. I try to imagine heaven as meadows where the sun always shines and where birds sing and this puts me a little at ease. I am scared that there may be other things, so I make myself believe the safest thing; reincarnation. It sounds better to me. But I think God is a great father and he wouldn't sort people into good or evil or believers or non-believers. I think that if we just live as we do and don't just give up that's our mission acomplished. That's at least what I believe, and it gives me a sence of peace. I'm never ever lost and I won't be ever either. I'm not going unwatched, because deep inside I'm just a child. What's difficult for me is that I have horrible nightmares; big floods, the volcanoes erupting everywhere, the world ending and so forth. I'm so scared that I don't even want to listen to the radio, because any songtext, yes anything, can scare me. I don't understand how to stop. Oh, and I went to norway on friday. It wasn't really to bad. I freaked out about the radio being on and then I got several attacks of claustrofobia. Well, that's horrible. I also had to be there in the car with Lisa, wich is my most anoying sister. She interferes with everything I say and I'm so tired of it. But I really loved to sleep in my dear grandma's basement. Grandpa is very sick, but he can still talk. It makes me a little down to see that he can't do very much now. He is really old and even though I appeared not to care when I talked with Lisa I really do care. I care to such a degree that it scares me. I don't want something to happen. And my grandma on mother's side, she's quite old too, but hanging on. She is the most wonderful, adorable, amazing, nice, understanding woman I've ever found. I want to talk to her, I want to write a song to her. I want to know her better, but how, when we're in different countries and my father won't let me go easily. Oh and I wish I weren't here. My mother and father should be happy together, without me, and I shouldn't be here. I wish I could erase myself, just like erasing a line on a page, smoothly and without a single sign of the cluttered, messy and unreadable text someone has written on a paper. Oh, well... I guess I can't, but my heart is aching so incredibly much that I just want to break down, but there's no one who can hold me up so I could lean, no one can stand here with me. I'm so glad I found this. I can confide in you, because I'm just Zandra. It's me in another form. I don't know if someone is reading this, but it's great to write it. I get it all said and without making it cause problems. I can't sleep. Here it's night. I started on this post in the evening and now it's past midnight. I am trying to sleep, it's just that I can't. It's not that I don't get tired; I'm always tired. It's just that I can't fall asleep once I'm in my bed. I will have to sleep today... or is it tomorrow? Nope, it's today. I just checked the time. i at least have got a long line to detangle. Honestly I have tried to knit several times but I just fail. I play some songs on my guitalele too.

Another day coming, but what's there to hope for?

I've stayed in bed all day. I have tried finding something to hope for and to hold on to. My dreams are crushed, I'm incomplete and broken and there's nothing to live for at all. My knitting is starting to become big. I'm actually quite relaxed right now, wich makes me feel comfortable inside myself. I often feel that I am to big for my skin, but now I actually fit and gain extra space. It may sound a bit sick but anyway. I'm happy now, things now go in less gray shades. It's more summer green now. I feel like I'm out in the sun and lying in the grass. I can feel the colour returning in my face, though I'm still pale. I can once again feel that there may be some point and meaning in my life. I'll go to bed now, it's a perfect night for dreaming.

How to cover it all?

Well, the reason for the title is because it's way to complicated. It's not possible to fit all of this into a clever phrase. Maybe I should practice that more often. I love randomized titles. My knitting's thread has gotten into a huge tangle and my father is trying to fix it. I'm waiting, but during that time I need more distraction tonight. I'm so scared. I wish someone would find me crying or see how scared I am. I wish someone could comfort me and make it alright. I feel like sleeping forever, I feel like running and never stopping to run, but I can't flee what's inside of me. I realize that I have mensioned my drunk thursday long ago on "It Can Only Get Better". I have started thinking more and more. Maybe the only way to protect others from me is that I stay in one room, preferably locked and isn't unlockable by me, and that noone can come in without the actual key, but how on earth would that work? I hate myself! I'm confused, but I'm also lost. Maybe I shouldn't even care for Vendela. She, like I may have mentioned, deserves someone who is a better person. I may even be evil and yes, it does bother me. I don't understand. May I have been the bad girl even since preschool? May I have invented something or may I just have been horrible and he had tried to make me do things. Maybe I was never abused by my assistant? Maybe my parents got things wrong and thought he was mistreating me, but it was just a fake? Did anyone ever see the abuse? And I feel even more horrible. I can't understand how I can come out right. I feel lost, but I like part of this feeling, wich is a bad thing. I don't really know how I can like it. It's horrible to be a fake! It's horrible to be me, but I don't know how I can ever change! I don't pity myself. I am no longer a person; I am an object designed to get attention and to make things wrong, but I have been a child, just an ordinary child, and I have had dreams... I hope. I just can't remember them. I have still got some kind of dreams, but I think they aren’t as empty as my conscience is. I wish I could be me. I wish I could wake and feel again. I'm numb inside and there's no apparent way to bring me and my emotional sensitivity back. I'd rather cry for everything than because of my reasons or fakes. I want to talk, but what can I say? Everything gets weaved into lies. It’s like trying to find the way out, but always getting stuck in spiderweb no matter where you turn. I've never understood anything. Now I'll go in to funnier things. I bought a collar to my sister's dog for one or two weeks ago and Hanny loved it. I bought a different one for Vendela and she will have to get used to it. She is adorable in it. I love my guitalele. It's the best instrument ever. I have seen small guitars before, but they are usually untunable. This is a small instrument that sounds like a ukulele but it has strings that are played like a guitar. Also it's not untunable. My brother had a guitar wich I, from deep frustration after several hours work, wanted to throw out through the window. I only resisted the urge because it's not mine. This wasn't a very good thing. But my new guitalele is brilliant. I could even learn the chord I call "the dreaded F" and it worked. I still need help with how to play Bm, C#, Bb (halfway done), b, all raised or lower chords and so on. I know C, Am, Em, E, G, D, Dm and A. Also I know some chords that I don't know the name on. I love music and that's what's keeping my core alive, a little like different machines can keep a human alive if the brain doesn't work and the rest does. I've become a monster without apparent conscience, but actually there is a conscience there. I wanted to talk to my father, but I couldn't. It wouldn't help, because I lie constantly and I invent stories to seem better. Anyway I have retuned my wonderful new instrument. I still am amazed. It's odd how I didn't know this existed. I wanted to be able to play that ukulele-sound, but I knew that since there were just four strings it would have to be tuned differently and I would have to learn new chords. now, however, I can play and it sounds like a ukulele, because I've got this little friend. I think I may call her rose? Yep, I name the instruments, but you probably know all that already. I have written those somewhere here... though some names aren't right. I don't have any instrument named something with penis. Why should I have that. I have got no sexual desire. I'm just nineteen and it's better to wait than to rush such things. It's quite strange. I'm neither attractive, not cute or beautiful, I don't seem very wonderful or so. No guy would look at me with love intentions. Well, I was supposed to try to post every day, but this is compiled from a bit of Saturday, Sunday, Monday, thuesday and this wednesday. Maybe it would be thursday for others, but I just don’t want to try to focus on dates and timezones. I remember having to find my timezone several times and that of course took a century. I am starting to become suicidal again. I want to leave; I just want to leave. I can’t stay like this. I am tired, I’m scared, I’m sad, I’m disgusted and I’m completely soaked in trouble. I’m tired of being troubled by nightmares and my own fakes. I don’t want to have to go through all this pain. Well, I know I am looking for relief. I know that’s no way to get it. I keep sharp objects away from me, because if not I’m afraid I’ll suddenly hurt myself or even worse, someone around me. I just want to open up the nearest little window, or just jump right through the glass. I want to soak into the walls or just soak into the floor. I want to become like flowing jelly and just flow away. They wouldn’t have to dry me up; I would, like I said, soak into the floor or ground and be gone. This would prevent others from the burden I’m carrying and also giving. I shouldn’t lean things on someone else. I’m feeling sick and it’s from my hate and fear of who I am. I can’t contain myself. Things keep going wrong and I can’t turn them right. I go hoping that the day will be over, but the next one is no better. I don’t really understand what to do. I told my father I didn’t want to go to Norway with all the others, but he is yelling and threatening me again. I’ve had enough of having to go through this. I just want to escape. I know I can; it's easy to run, but they will find me.

How to make it stop?

Hi there! I'm not sure if anyone is reading this or not, but it's great to vent things a bit so that I won't explode. I have had a terrible saturday and I have wanted to just flee, flee, flee. I'm feeling captured and I'm completely filled with angst. I can't cope. It's driving me crazy and I don't know what to do. I need to be distracted, because if I relax I'll let my guard down, if I let my guard down things reach me so easily and if that happens I'll run and I won't think or care about what I do. Yesterday, wich was saturday, has been horrible. I've been scared... Well, when I woke I was almost happy, but my mood decreased quickly, and by the end of morning I was scared. I didn't want to be alone, but I couldn't say this. I couldn't tell anyone that I didn't want to be alone. I wish I could find a friend. I wish there was someone who could comfort me when I am sad, who could help me through the hard times, who I could count on, who understands me and who will be there. But I'm a horrible person. I'm supposed to be lonely. I'm meant to be alone for ever, ever and always. I know just why this is. I hurt anyone I meet, though I'm not wanting to. I lie to everyone around me and I lie about anything. It may be simple things, like for example saying I've got friends or that I am in a band, or it can be bigger things. At solvik, for example, I lied and said to my assistant that I was pregnant. I could never have been pregnant, because I have never ever have sex. I lied again when they tried to ask me who was the father and I let false information slip that I had been raped. I have never been raped or even inappropriately touched. I know this isn't very good and in some degree it isn't even legal. And I lied and said my father was abusing me, but even though he is handeling me inappropriately carelessly and way to harshly he has never actually abused me. But he doesn't really have the right to decide what I do or if I go home. It's not his thing if I become a streetchild. He and my sister Mary-Anne will have to stop telling me or forcing me. He doesn't have right to pack me in the car. I'm thinking on taking suicide, but it wouldn't make things better. Well, for others it would
get better since they loose their burden, but nothing else. I need relief, and I can't feel relief that way. And if I can, I don't want to risk things. I don't know what to do. I'm completely freaking out and I can't calm down. I'm not sure what to do. I'm trying and I have tried way to long now, but I can't switch of my angst. I'm all empty inside, my core is sleeping tight, I can't do a single thing right and I'm just broken. I'm entangled in this web of lies and I can't get out. I'm just nineteen years old, but it feels as though I'm about seventy. I feel exhausted all the way through and even though I have slept much I can't feel rested. I have tried chocolate, but it no longer works very good. I don't care about overweight or diabetes, I just want to be happy. But I don't deserve to be happy and I know it. How can I stop being such a fake?

No intentions to make sence at all, I just have to write this off.

Hi there! I have got a new haircut, very short and comfortable, and I have got a puppy who is named Vendela. Her actual name is Anja Aviria. I created the name myself. I don't think it's good that they give dogs names like some kind of possition like for example The Sickshoe Lawnsleeper. It's not very right. I chose a name that was authentic and wich was hers and didn't mean anything. Anja is a real name and Aviria is a name I have made up. But there are people with better taste of names wich means things, for example Link Of Adventure. That sounds very great. I had decided that if my puppy would be a boy I would call him Link. My younger sister has got a puppy too. Her name is Hanny, or honey, and my oldest sister has partially renamed her to raffraff. And she keeps letting Vendela out of my room all the time. Vendela can't open my bedroom door from the inside, but from the outside it's just to push gently on the door and it is open. I can't even count how many times I have called her name and have had to run after her. IT's actually fun in some way, wich is great. I use to first say it kindly like just caller her name, but then I start "Vendela! Come here! Come heeeere! Vendela! Now!" and then I chase her down the stairs. Oh, and also, since it was ages since I last wrote, I have become drunk. My sister's boyfriend had brought Whiskey and he didn't know much about my problem with alcahol intake. So he gave me a glass and I drank it and loved the firey way it had. Then I came with empty glass and said I was done. He asked me if I didn't want more, but I really did. I asked my father and he said that I should choose. I'm old enough to know how much I drink. But I am not. I drank four glasses full of whiskey. I just liked that ragy shock and the connection and zapping of my brain. And I started to come alive. I started talking very much and I was laughing. And I was warned that I would have to go to school with a headache the next day. Buut Í didn't care. And I found it hard to walk. It was difficult because I was swaying. My head started to feel a bit full. And I couldn't think and I still felt so alive. It was as though the emptyness inside of me had become less empty. I was told to go to bed because I was a bit crazy at that time. I somehow managed my medication even though thinking was very hard. But I needed help with getting up the stairs. My sister's boyfriend helped me up and I managed it all the way to my bedroom. But I didn't want to be still. Well, my two sisters took me outside to give me fresh air and my older sister (actually I have five sisters and two brothers) tried to make me puke. I had intencive and scary delutions and such, but they were more like flashbacks. I'm not certain if they were flashbacks, deliriums, delutions, ilutions, halusinations or just living vivid fantasies, but -I will never drink again! And I didn't stay long at school the next day. I had a terrible hangover with remnants of those flashbacks in my head. I went to school but then I went back home. I walked on cotton all the time and I was surrounded by tight candyfloss. And I was scared. But I made it through the day. My sisters kept teasing me about it along with my brother and I laughed too. And the question still lies in my mind. Who drinks on a thursday! But I'm never going to drink again. Ah well, that's the way it goes. I have bought two new instruments today. I have one old guitar with nylon strings, on wich two strings are missing, and one guitar with steel strings called metal classic. I have an electric guitar wich is perfect for rock but works for balads too. I have one synth on wich the D note isn't working on that particular place where I use to play, and two organs; one with one row standing upstairs and quite unused and one downstears with two keyboards. The one with two keyboards is very old and I love that thing. It's got such a pure sound and it looks brand new. There isn't a single scratch or dent on it. Now I have added Jew's harp to my instrumentation wich is great. It is an excelent instrument. I have always wanted to play ukulele, but I knew that the chords were different. I didn't want to have to learn it all, but then I found a clever little friend called a guitalele. It's sometimes called guitarlele, but that's harder to pronounce. Also I have made things in my mind for fun so that it becomes ukutar. But I know that's not a word and it will not sound as good as guitalele. In my opinion it sound like an ukulele, wich in turn sounds like a mixture of harp and a little bit of mandolin texture. I love that wonderful sound. This is not a toy, this is a brilliant instrument that makes it possible to get that ukulele-sound even though you don't know the chords. I am planning on writing a lot on this instrument. Also I have got a huge benefit of it sounding a bit like a harp, because harps are very expencive to buy and I have a puppy and myself pluss increasing chocolate need to care for. Also this doesn't have about thirty-five strings. It has got six strings and works with guitar chords. The only think you'll have to remember is that the guitalele should be tuned in G, not E. Just tune the thinnest or thickest string to G and continue from there just like you do in guitar. My technique starts on the thinnest string on gutalele and guitar. I usually tune it with the help of a synth or tuning pipe. Then I play the second string on the fifth fret and it should sound like the thinnest. Then I proceed to the third counting from the bottom and play it on the fourth fret. It once again should sound like the second strings and then just do the rest of the strings on the fifth fret. As a correction aftertouch, just make sure the first and sixth strings is the same tone. I have actually written an instrumental lullaby for myself on my dear best friend since I can't seem to sleep. I've really got to give my Guitalele a name. My old guitar's name is giaminns, the metal clasic, wich is the newer one, is Jenny, my electric guitar is Pinky and my synth is peniessa and the two-keyboard organ is anne. Now I need a brilliant name for my dear guitalele. ´Maybe something from the barbie movies? Oh and by the way I am now using sleeping medication. Hmm, it sounds as though the pills are sleeping. But anyway they are for helping me sleep. I just don't know why I can't sleep. I am tired, actually exhausted, but I just won't fall asleep. This makes me feel more angst as it increases when I'm stressed or tired. Unfortunately it's not that I am not tired that is the problem, it's that I just can't sleep. And my brain keeps haunting me. It gets easier if I can watch tv while I sleep and or watch barbie. I love all of them, but especially the fairytopia serie, thumbelina, maryposa, the twelve dancing princesses, the magic of pegasus, the diamond castle... I don't really care that I'm aighteen. I like it because even though they're dedicated to children it has got such brilliant content and it doesn't destroy me mentally. I just watch programs for children, because I want to avoid things with bad content, sectual situations, scary things and or so on. I am so easily scared and if something activates a "trigger" my fear is on high, doing that string section that sometimes plays in movies for when they see something scary. I am tired of always having this angst, but the music and such helps me. But I feel horrible. I feel like I'm a disgusting, false, amoral, paracitic, corruptive, destructive, stupid, selfish, idiotic, failing, broken girl. I feel I am a bad bad girl. I am still depressed, but now I'm so empty. I have realized something. A part of me, my actual soul or spirit, is sleeping inside of the outer one. My core is asleep and it doesn't seem to wake. I have written a song about it. I came to this conclution while listening to an irelevant song by Evanescence called Bring Me To Life. I listened to it and realized that I was hollow, in a bad dreamy daze, lonely and without conscience, hope, relief or joy. But maybe someone can wake me and when that time comes I'll probably be awoken from my deep sleep. There's no doubt about it. I am right now watching tv, wich is one of the few things there seems to be to do. I am tired of all boring routines and I just can't stand it. I keep doing the same things and it's just not how I'm supposed to live. And I'm still so unhappy. That's another problem I can't solve. Maybe I just can't feel happy and maybe I'll be this numb inside forever? This brings me to tears. I'm not sure how I can ever wake. And I think I need to get away for some time. I would find it quite good to leave everything behind for a longer period of time. I need to leave somehow, but I don't want to go to norway. The reason for this is just that I don't want to just sit and talk. It's a great place and especially for the candy there, but it seems that the only thing I'm allowed to do is to talk. I can't be left alone apparently. That is why going there is out of the question. I've been very tence lately and I don't have the mood to be pressured. It doesn't at all work. With my mother the same problem appears; nothing to do but to talk. If an adult's life is only about talking and such I wonder what's good with it. But I still consider myself a child. Okay, this has been a long post.

Another monday

I know there is a monday in every week, but this doesn't make it easy. I'm so tired and I know I've slept all night. Honestly I don't know why I can't be rested. I slept all sunday and the night to monday. Now I still want to sleep. all time.I'm sick today and I'm tired of my father threatening me. Nobody has got the right. I start to wonder if I chose the right place to live at. Because it's just awkward and aweful to have to go through this. Tomorrow I'll have to do some kind of blood testing for my travel to the hospital in umeå. I don't really feel like going with my father, so I'll probably have to make it so that I can go alone. I just can't go through this an these trips aren't ever what they should or used to be. I'll just try to convince him that I take the bus alone. I've had enough of having to be some kind of extention to someone else. I just can't take it. The thing is that wherever I go I have to follow tight with someone. I'm no possession! I'm my own and I'm aighteen years now, not fourteen! I'm blind, not stupid! It seems as though some people from here thinks that it's the same, but that's a misunderstanding. Sure, there are blind people that can't navigate streets or even rooms, but I'm not one of them. I won't be accusing anyone, but it's as though they expect me not to be able to find my way. Another problem seems to be that some thinks that if one blind they have been doing things with is one way, I should be like that too. This sounds wierd to me, because we are people, too. We are different. I remember someone at balder being all obsessed with me being like a blind guy that had been there before. "Do you expect me to be like him?" I asked. "We blind people are different. You can't expect me to be like that just because he was!" I was really upset. Anyway I have tried to record some today, but it was kind of bad. I just don't know. But now I know the secret with cluttered vocal chords. Just drink water and it will be gone. Lemonwater will sometimes do, but be careful. Also, avoid chocolate. It should be pass at least three days before a performance without chocolate. Also, don't drink to much milk on the performance day. I hav sung for an entire school, so I am learning. I'll try to write more up to date in the future. I am already worrying for the next christmas. I miss how it used to be. All the peace and happyness is gone. Maybe this is just how I experience it, but the three last christmass have been without feeling. Well, I've got Vendela, a puppy that I'll soon be able to get, in my bed here. She is lovely. I'll have a photograph of us together soon.

It can only get better

Like the song by Amy Diamond, called It Can Only Get Better, it gets better. I've started studying at John Bauer now and it's great. Also I took my own steps and got help for my angst and deep depression. Oh and I got drunk last thursday, the fifteenth october. I became very sencitive and said a lot of wierd things. I drank four smaller glasses of whisky. But I don't know how to drink. I said, for example, that I loved the whole world, my sisters and other siblings and one of my sister's boyfriend. I said "I want Melody! She is my only friend!" and melody is a fairy doll. And I needed someone to carry me up the stairs and it was my sister's boyfriend who did it. And because of the alcohol I was freezing worse than ever. "Please can't we go home," I said. "I promise I'll stay in bed if we do." Oh and my sister tried to make me vomit on my own. But that usual trick with tickling that thing somewhere just didn't work that time when I needed to get the alcohol out. And I felt so lonely, much more than I always do, and that is a whole lot to begin with usually. I got hystericly sad and wanted to give my big, realistic doll to my sister for her to take care of him because I was a bad mother. Oh dear, I'll never be allowed to forget this. Somewhere in mars I got drunk too, but this time from wine. That time I just couldn't walk right and I had a gash in my eyebrow after it and a huge hangover. But this recent hangover was much worse. But I had said I would go to school, so I had no choice. I went home early that day, however, because the headache became unbearable. This is embarrasing. I am taking antidepressents now and the fear has decreased dramatically. I now don't have to pace and my hand-washing rituals are much less important. I'm still sick of bathrooms and things others have been drinking or eating from still, though. I remember something that was troubling me a lot. I have honestly never seen a urinal before. I entered what I and my sister, who is my assistant, had assumed was a bathroom and I checked. I didn't find a toilet. I touched the thing. My sister said it was recently cleaned, but I was all obsessed with it in my mind, so the rest of my first day was officially ruined. I think I've got a problem similar to obsessive compulsive disorder, OCD. Anything can be troubling me for long periods, but that's a bit complicated. What's really hurting me is that my father thinks I just believe it's a problem, that I have been reading about it and taken it to me, that I'm imagening. He says it haven't been a problem since I studied at Solvik, but I never did read about OCD there. I read about tourettes there, but I just don't think it is tourettes. He keeps telling me that it haven't been a real problem. But it has been a problem all along. I kept thinking that it would get over, but it didn't get over. I didn't dare to say anything about it. I was afraid that they should get angry. I was mistreated by my current assistant at school and my father forced me to school and believed the things they said at school. So I was afraid of turning to my parents and I have been untill now. Honestly I start to think I shouldn't have bothered, because it hurt me more than it helped me. But he never understood that yelling at me to stop wouldn't help. Maybe it would help in the way that I would leave and get stuck on the same or another ritual. I still feel unhappy. It can take a lot of time to get the actual depression to disappear. Anyway it doesn't matter too much that it takes a long time, because as long as it really works it's fin. I'm already feeling way better now when the intensive fear is gone. I can feel safe and comfortable. I'd better go to bed now... or maybe I should just keep surfing! Cheers!

Slow summer

Summer, summer, summer! Usually asosiated with children playing in the playground, people wearing light clothing and all sorts of joy like for example biking. For me ssummer has been awkward. I'm just tired and then I can't sleep. Things are upside-down or maybe downside-up. No, I liked upside down better. It made more sence too. But the summer has been great, too. My brother whom I haven't seen in about seven or eight years ago has been here and I have been going to my favourite place. It's so lovely swimming there and the waterslide is just amazing. Amazing is the only way for me to describe it. Vitbergsbadet is an experience ffrom my childhood and although I remember getting scratches from the metal thing between some beams somewhere I've got tons of good memories from that place. I almost totally opened up for three days. It was the old me, the one who is true Zandra, not Messed up Zandra with my mask. I was happy. The first of the three days I broke the steps to the porch on purpose. I was allowed to, because it had to be done. We were building a balcony. With breaking the steps I also broke a barrier and started opening up. The next day I was going to vitbergsbadet and the third day I went to Piteå aäventyrsbad. (for anyone who can't read swedish or norwegian characters ä is a with two circles... and a å is a a with one circle...) Anyway those were the best three days in a long time. I had to pay for that later I assume. I became exhausted all the way through my soul and I just couldn't wake up. I fell asleep all the time and I couldn't get out of bed. I don't know what happened, but it did. Now I realize that the summer has been boring but some days were the best I probably will have for a long time and I'll try to carry them with me. I have got a lot of deep sad memories and even though they can\t be erased some things might actually lighten them a bit. It doesn\t matter what it is if it\s something. I\m starting school in about three weeks, the twenty/third August. It might become intresting, but I am so incredibly scared that I might just fail. I'm a mess as it is already and I don't want to mess up more. Well, I am going to do the best I can with the last summer days. There's no point to think about bad days when there's still hope for good ones! I'll just try to get of bed and say Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
It's a perfect summer! plus I'll start school soon.