Wind and rain and leaden skies.
Inexplicable sadness grips the heart.
Every breath makes me want to cry.
Looking out the window rips my soul apart.
I want to curl up under the duvet and never ever leave.
The comfort of my bed.
But I'm tired of curling up alone.
Want the warmth of another.
I think all I really need is a cup of tea and a hug from someone who cares about me.
But even simple things can be hard to come by.
So I guess I'll just have to settle for whatever I can get.
A cup of tea and the Sunday greys.
26/10/2008
11/04/2008
An unexpected turn
Well.
This blog was originally intended to be a translation of my Swedish blog, but after a short while it seems things have taken an unexpected turn...
This blog now seems to have a life of it's own.
I write different things in English and Swedish, but at least everything I write is all me.
Unfortunately I don't seem to be as humorous in English as I sometimes am in Swedish. But hopefully time will remedy that.
Anyways...
Sometimes things just take on a life of itself and you just have to go with the flow.
I've always been really bad at going with the flow, but that's changed dramatically over the past eight months. It's not like I'm just waiting for good things to happen - I actually try to help them along. But I've definitely gotten more adept at seizing the opportunities as they come along.
Last one might actually land me a job in Denmark, before I've even moved there (which I intend to do in a few months time).
Carpe Diem, good people!
This blog was originally intended to be a translation of my Swedish blog, but after a short while it seems things have taken an unexpected turn...
This blog now seems to have a life of it's own.
I write different things in English and Swedish, but at least everything I write is all me.
Unfortunately I don't seem to be as humorous in English as I sometimes am in Swedish. But hopefully time will remedy that.
Anyways...
Sometimes things just take on a life of itself and you just have to go with the flow.
I've always been really bad at going with the flow, but that's changed dramatically over the past eight months. It's not like I'm just waiting for good things to happen - I actually try to help them along. But I've definitely gotten more adept at seizing the opportunities as they come along.
Last one might actually land me a job in Denmark, before I've even moved there (which I intend to do in a few months time).
Carpe Diem, good people!
01/03/2008
Things that happen while I'm busy being depressed... part two
Here are the realisations:
I've realised that one of the things that really makes me happy also can make me really sad.
This mysterious thing is the ability to find joy and beauty and happiness even in the seemingly small and insignificant things in life.
Like the steely scent of the sea on a stormy winters' day, and the way this sometimes almost seems to take on a physical shape of piercing coldness.
Or the sound the wind makes when playing in tall, wet grass on a morning during early spring.
Or the warm, organic, almost tangible saltiness of the ocean that seems to embrace you like a tender lover just after sunset on a hot summer day's eve.
Or the feeling of rich, black mud seeping between your toes when you walk barefoot through the forest on a cold night late in the autumn.
These things and many more makes me almost indescribably happy.
So one might think I would be the happiest person in the world. Right?
Wrong!
The reason why these things that brings me joy also seems to have the ability of bringing me down is this - there's really no way I can share them with anyone.
Firstly because most people seem depressingly incapable of appreciating the small things in life or, as they say, "to stop and smell the roses".
And secondly because whenever I try to speak of these things, or write about them for that matter, I always seem to come across as this super pretentious hippie-poet-romantic-wannabe jerk. And when even I find it difficult to take me serious - how could I possibly expect someone else to!?!
Another thing I've learned about myself is that I feel at my very best whenever I have a goal to work towards. And I usually set myself fairly high goals, which also leads to some unhappiness since I never really seem to be able to reach my goals.
But the good thing is - the older I get the more realistic my goals get. Like now - for example - when I've set myself the goal to move to Denmark to study, since I truly believe that the education I'll get there is the education I need in order for me to have the freedom of choice I crave as to what I'm going to work with, and the freedom of not being stuck doing one thing for the rest of my life.
Turns out this goal is highly realistic since all that remains for me to achieve the goal is to find a place to stay and to organise the move which, by the look of things, should be a whole lot easier than I first thought. So now I know where I'll be and what I'll be doing for the next two years - and it feels great!
And one final, very important thing I've realised (although, this I've been suspecting for a while now) is that I feel really crappy when in doubt as to where I stand in relation to others.
I don't mean that not being held in high enough regard brings me down. I mean I'd rather know for sure what people's honest opinions about me are - even if the opinions are not positive - than being kept in limbo by people telling me one thing and signalling another.
All I can say to those who don't want to hurt people's feelings by telling them they don't like them is - don't be such an idiot!!!
People will notice. By the tone of voice, by your body language, by the way you can't help but rolling your eyes ever so slightly when they speak...
And by not telling them you'll most likely hurt their feelings even more since they might get to thinking that perhaps you do like them after all. Or you don't. Or you do... Things like that are guaranteed to send people to the loony bin.
So just tell them, and get it over with!
And, funnily enough, some of the people I've told that I didn't like are now close friends of mine. Turned out that by telling them why I didn't like them we got to communicating in a new way and found out we had a lot of common denominators and the reason I hadn't liked them was because they hadn't liked me and that the reason for all this dislike was really just a misunderstanding...
And the people I've told that I didn't like who didn't become my friends? Well most of them may still not like me, but they do respect me.
And the infinitesimally small number of people I don't like remaining here? Well, there's really no reason why I should bother with them anyway. If people can't accept the fact that they can't be liked by everyone, they're not people I want to be around anyway.
People who are constantly afraid of being disliked are frankly quite boring.
I should know - I used to be one of them! =)
Oh! I should probably point out that there are very few people I dislike.
There are also very few people I like.
It's just the way I am.
And on that note I will finish my ramblings for now...
I've realised that one of the things that really makes me happy also can make me really sad.
This mysterious thing is the ability to find joy and beauty and happiness even in the seemingly small and insignificant things in life.
Like the steely scent of the sea on a stormy winters' day, and the way this sometimes almost seems to take on a physical shape of piercing coldness.
Or the sound the wind makes when playing in tall, wet grass on a morning during early spring.
Or the warm, organic, almost tangible saltiness of the ocean that seems to embrace you like a tender lover just after sunset on a hot summer day's eve.
Or the feeling of rich, black mud seeping between your toes when you walk barefoot through the forest on a cold night late in the autumn.
These things and many more makes me almost indescribably happy.
So one might think I would be the happiest person in the world. Right?
Wrong!
The reason why these things that brings me joy also seems to have the ability of bringing me down is this - there's really no way I can share them with anyone.
Firstly because most people seem depressingly incapable of appreciating the small things in life or, as they say, "to stop and smell the roses".
And secondly because whenever I try to speak of these things, or write about them for that matter, I always seem to come across as this super pretentious hippie-poet-romantic-wannabe jerk. And when even I find it difficult to take me serious - how could I possibly expect someone else to!?!
Another thing I've learned about myself is that I feel at my very best whenever I have a goal to work towards. And I usually set myself fairly high goals, which also leads to some unhappiness since I never really seem to be able to reach my goals.
But the good thing is - the older I get the more realistic my goals get. Like now - for example - when I've set myself the goal to move to Denmark to study, since I truly believe that the education I'll get there is the education I need in order for me to have the freedom of choice I crave as to what I'm going to work with, and the freedom of not being stuck doing one thing for the rest of my life.
Turns out this goal is highly realistic since all that remains for me to achieve the goal is to find a place to stay and to organise the move which, by the look of things, should be a whole lot easier than I first thought. So now I know where I'll be and what I'll be doing for the next two years - and it feels great!
And one final, very important thing I've realised (although, this I've been suspecting for a while now) is that I feel really crappy when in doubt as to where I stand in relation to others.
I don't mean that not being held in high enough regard brings me down. I mean I'd rather know for sure what people's honest opinions about me are - even if the opinions are not positive - than being kept in limbo by people telling me one thing and signalling another.
All I can say to those who don't want to hurt people's feelings by telling them they don't like them is - don't be such an idiot!!!
People will notice. By the tone of voice, by your body language, by the way you can't help but rolling your eyes ever so slightly when they speak...
And by not telling them you'll most likely hurt their feelings even more since they might get to thinking that perhaps you do like them after all. Or you don't. Or you do... Things like that are guaranteed to send people to the loony bin.
So just tell them, and get it over with!
And, funnily enough, some of the people I've told that I didn't like are now close friends of mine. Turned out that by telling them why I didn't like them we got to communicating in a new way and found out we had a lot of common denominators and the reason I hadn't liked them was because they hadn't liked me and that the reason for all this dislike was really just a misunderstanding...
And the people I've told that I didn't like who didn't become my friends? Well most of them may still not like me, but they do respect me.
And the infinitesimally small number of people I don't like remaining here? Well, there's really no reason why I should bother with them anyway. If people can't accept the fact that they can't be liked by everyone, they're not people I want to be around anyway.
People who are constantly afraid of being disliked are frankly quite boring.
I should know - I used to be one of them! =)
Oh! I should probably point out that there are very few people I dislike.
There are also very few people I like.
It's just the way I am.
And on that note I will finish my ramblings for now...
25/02/2008
Things that happen while I'm busy being depressed...
After spending most of my time since around late October/early November in what can only be described as a deep, dark hole of quiet despair, I have finally begun to rediscover the brighter sides of life.
This has also led to a series of discoveries about myself, to which I will get back in a little while.
The thing about my depressions is - I need them to feel good. It may seem like a cliché that in order to feel good, you sometimes need to feel bad. But in my case this couldn't be more true.
Ever since I was a child I've been curious about the world, fascinated by it, frightened by it, enamoured by it and tried to learn as much as I can about it. This may seem like a perfectly normal thing, and I guess to some extent it is. The thing about me, though, is that I have a tendency of not processing all these new and exciting things as I go about my daily business. Instead I gather the information in my head, much like a sponge absorbing water.
The thing about a sponge is, it can only absorb so much water until it's reached the point of complete saturation. Now, the healthy thing for a sponge to do might be to just stop absorbing. Or perhaps to squeeze some of the water out in order to make room for some other kind of water. But not this sponge!
No, this sponge is a sponge that instead of shedding water or stop absorbing gets what can only be described as growing pains. When I was younger it used to manifest itself as me getting a terrible stomach ache, which had me doubled over for about a week or so, and which disappeared on it's own accord without any rational, medical explanation.
Nowadays it leads to a depression which usually comes about every year or two, and which usually lasts about a month.
But every time I've been suffering from these growing pains, the strangest thing has happened - I've actually grown! Not physically, but mentally and emotionally. So instead of loosing the excess water this sponge just keeps getting bigger and bigger... =)
But growing is never easy and it usually comes at a price.
I had in fact been feeling almost too good about myself for more than two years, apart from some minor sadnesses, so I was a little worried that this growth spurt would be particularly bad. But as time passed and no depression came I started thinking that maybe, just maybe, I had finally grown enough to be able to grow just a little at a time.
But, boy, was I wrong! Instead I've been living in this pitch black hole of despair for several months - much longer than usual.
I can't say it hasn't been hell.
But as I'm finally beginning to feel this darkness dissipate I can see that it hasn't been to no avail. But I can also see it's taken a high toll on me - especially physically.
I've always been skinny, but as I happened to see myself naked in a full size mirror the other day I was chocked and appalled at how much weight I've seem to lost over the past few months. I know I haven't been eating enough - I just haven't had any appetite. But I didn't realize it had been this bad. Since I'm usually not depressed - and therefor suffering from a lack in appetite - for more than a month at a time I've never actually realised just what effect a more long term depression could have on me...
It seems my body can take long periods of eating like two grown men and long periods of barely eating at all without me actually gaining or loosing any weight to speak of. But it also seems there comes a point when my body reaches critical mass (or rather lack thereof, as it were) and starts burning calories like mad. I've heard others describe this phenomenon before - I just never thought it would actually happen to me.
So the thing I'm gonna do now is try to regain my weight and hope it also leads (which seems rather likely) to me feeling more energetic. The good news is - I love food! (I just keep forgetting this whenever I'm depressed).
And now for the discoveries;
(To be continued in the next post...)
This has also led to a series of discoveries about myself, to which I will get back in a little while.
The thing about my depressions is - I need them to feel good. It may seem like a cliché that in order to feel good, you sometimes need to feel bad. But in my case this couldn't be more true.
Ever since I was a child I've been curious about the world, fascinated by it, frightened by it, enamoured by it and tried to learn as much as I can about it. This may seem like a perfectly normal thing, and I guess to some extent it is. The thing about me, though, is that I have a tendency of not processing all these new and exciting things as I go about my daily business. Instead I gather the information in my head, much like a sponge absorbing water.
The thing about a sponge is, it can only absorb so much water until it's reached the point of complete saturation. Now, the healthy thing for a sponge to do might be to just stop absorbing. Or perhaps to squeeze some of the water out in order to make room for some other kind of water. But not this sponge!
No, this sponge is a sponge that instead of shedding water or stop absorbing gets what can only be described as growing pains. When I was younger it used to manifest itself as me getting a terrible stomach ache, which had me doubled over for about a week or so, and which disappeared on it's own accord without any rational, medical explanation.
Nowadays it leads to a depression which usually comes about every year or two, and which usually lasts about a month.
But every time I've been suffering from these growing pains, the strangest thing has happened - I've actually grown! Not physically, but mentally and emotionally. So instead of loosing the excess water this sponge just keeps getting bigger and bigger... =)
But growing is never easy and it usually comes at a price.
I had in fact been feeling almost too good about myself for more than two years, apart from some minor sadnesses, so I was a little worried that this growth spurt would be particularly bad. But as time passed and no depression came I started thinking that maybe, just maybe, I had finally grown enough to be able to grow just a little at a time.
But, boy, was I wrong! Instead I've been living in this pitch black hole of despair for several months - much longer than usual.
I can't say it hasn't been hell.
But as I'm finally beginning to feel this darkness dissipate I can see that it hasn't been to no avail. But I can also see it's taken a high toll on me - especially physically.
I've always been skinny, but as I happened to see myself naked in a full size mirror the other day I was chocked and appalled at how much weight I've seem to lost over the past few months. I know I haven't been eating enough - I just haven't had any appetite. But I didn't realize it had been this bad. Since I'm usually not depressed - and therefor suffering from a lack in appetite - for more than a month at a time I've never actually realised just what effect a more long term depression could have on me...
It seems my body can take long periods of eating like two grown men and long periods of barely eating at all without me actually gaining or loosing any weight to speak of. But it also seems there comes a point when my body reaches critical mass (or rather lack thereof, as it were) and starts burning calories like mad. I've heard others describe this phenomenon before - I just never thought it would actually happen to me.
So the thing I'm gonna do now is try to regain my weight and hope it also leads (which seems rather likely) to me feeling more energetic. The good news is - I love food! (I just keep forgetting this whenever I'm depressed).
And now for the discoveries;
(To be continued in the next post...)
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