Just 19, and dream obscene, with six months off for bad behaviour.

I'm fairly good at keeping my head over water these days, with only just a few melt-downs. So generally, things are good. I don't lay staring into a wall or constantly plan suicide, which is - as you guessed - a good thing. When I get those melt-downs, I try to pull myself up again and think about the good things in life and try to snap out of it before it catches me completely. It has somehow worked very well!
I had an anxiety attack earlier this evening though, but I'm okay now and all. My boyfriend helped me through it over the phone. I rarely get anxiety attacks when I'm just at home, it's unfortunately and embarrassingly enough almost always only when I am in busses or trains. Generally public transport. Which mostly results in me having to get out of the bus/train/metro as quick as possible, and I can inform you that it can take a long time to get somewhere when I have those days where I'm prone to it. It's also kind of rare by now, but it happens just once in a while (mostly when I'm stressed).
When I was younger, a bus-ride that took about 10 minutes could end up taking over an hour and more, but it was also the time where the anxiety attacks were at the worst. I'm just glad that it only happens once in a while now.
Despite the attack, I'm okay now though. Just a little thoughtful, but in a okay mood.

Right at this moment, I feel very ambivalent towards a lot of things.

I'm trying to get out in the real world again, but at the same time it feels like I'm not ready for it when I'm out doing something with others. As you can guess, it's kind of annoying when you actually want to go out and be social.

It'll sound weird, but I'm full of a lot of emotions and thoughts right now, but I'm not really able to express them really. I'm thinking about my future, self-esteem or the lack of it, the past, friendships, things that bothers me, and a lot of scattered thoughts among them all.  I contain a lot of feelings in smaller doses, love and care, worry, pain, hopefulness and hopelessness, pride and shame, delight, appreciation, agony, longing and wonder. It's weird, because I'm usually feeling either - let's say hopeful or hopeless as an example - but not at the same time. So I feel weird and confused about it. I guess it has something to do with each and every thought that contain one feeling, and the other thoughts another.
I wonder about the future, I long for my boyfriend's kisses, I worry for my good friend's mental health, feel hopeless about my own self-esteem or more like the things I want to do but I feel like I'm not good enough at, I feel hopeful when I think about how "far" I've come, mental pain, delightful that my lovehandles feels smaller, extremely shameful about my body, love for the people around me, and agony that I can't explain why. But at the same time I'm okay and just fine.
 I can't really put it into words. 

My self-esteem is really, really low at the moment. I feel like I'm not good enough at anything I do - even such simple things as talking with people around me. I wish I believed it when people tell me something I've done is good - and with that sentence, I mean every possible thing I can do. If it's painting, writing, comforting someone, making a joke, sex, my appearance, generosity, kindness, EVERYTHING possible really - even if someone tells me I'm good at something, I honestly don't believe it. Acquaintances and beloved ones - I still don't believe them, because my mind keeps telling me that they only say that to make me feel better about myself. I'd really like to believe them.
I have to learn myself to be happier with myself. Right now, I only feel good about one thing about myself which isn't really a good thing, and that things isn't good for me in the long run.
I just don't really know where to start. I'm tired of feeling like an in vain, purposeless monstrosity that's can't succeed at anything. Obviously it hasn't helped when others have told me I was good at something, because I can't get myself to actually believe it. It has to come from myself, but I'm not sure how. I'm just tired of feeling like this.

I guess the thing that keeps me from drowning is the fact that I try to keep me away from myself by talking with others. So I don't get a moment to think, so I don't fall down into worse thoughts.

I feel so ashamed of myself.

 Just nineteen

and dream obscene

with six months off for bad behaviour

Slackerbitch, faghag whore, looks real cute, her lips are sore.

So I thought it was about time to make an actual update here. Though I must admit that I haven't been doing anything fancy or exciting, really.
My mood has improved just a bit though! These past few days have been somewhat better than the rest in what feels like forever. Though I haven't exactly been out doing stuff, my general mood has been great with just a few slips. But generally better!

I'm sick at the moment, my throat hurts so bad and I can't hear anything. I hope it's gone by tomorrow.

And this is just a small note to myself, about things that makes me happy;

• The weather here is somewhat lovely right now.
• I'm starting in school again soon, and hopefully that'd lift me up. It's a class dedicated to people with anxiety and/or depression, and the days consists of psychoeducation, gradually making yourself ready for work, ways to deal with your issues, exercise and best of all - doing creative things like painting.
• I have a lovely guy that I'm still in love with. 
• I have people who support me.
• My brother was kind enough to transfer 1200 DKK to my bank account when I asked him if I could borrow 100 DKK because I litterally don't have enough money to eat anything. He told me to not mention it, and that he gave that as a gift. My brother's generousity is amazing. 
• And well, generally just my family. My brother, my sister and my mum are amazing people. <3
• Emilia, because she's pretty much the definition of an incredible friend in my eyes, and I feel so proud of her. 
• I have now lost 6 kg (which surprised me! I can't see any difference.)
• The light that shines through my window right now is incredibly beautiful.

And a little list of what I should do;

• Tidy my room. 
• Clean the fridge.
• Paint more regularly (instead of going for weeks without lifting a paint brush and then suddenly paint for 5-8 hours straight.)
• Get toned. Exercise. 
• Get well enough to prove them that I "deserve" the next free apartment they have. 
• Write more regularly. 
• Stop trying to beat myself up over small, superficial things and snap out of it when I feel the sadness and the thoughts roll over me. 
• See my boyfriend more (though that also depends on him, since he's crazy-social at the moment.)
• Buy some of Placebo's CD's when I have the money, because.. well, that doesn't need any reasons, does it? Haha.
• Socialize more, hang out with friends I don't see often, because I miss them. (Stupid reason, but I've felt like I wasn't worthy of their time and I was a bore anyway.)
• Lose just a few more kg. I'm thinking around 3. 
• Be happy. Live life instead of staring into the wall all day and wishing I wasn't born.
• Catch up on summer. 

I came to realize that I haven't self-harmed in... I have no idea how long ago I did it the last time, but I don't recall doing it while living in this house (I've lived here for 9 months now). I might have done it once or twice. But I don't remember it, so for now I'm just saying 9 months free.
Some nights ago, I was just about to though, but when I held the blade over my back, I backed out of it and I'm proud of that. It's not really worth the scars. And also, the guilt afterwards is worse than the act of doing it, in my opinion. But I'm just really happy that I didn't do it.

Also, be prepared for an eating disorder-themed entry in the future. Not about things I'm right now,  but about the past, because I've been thinking things over a lot these days, mostly because I feel like I need to get it out. Also because I tend to be really... annoyed, for a lack of better words, these days. At myself, but also at people around me (no, not you Pøwlsi) and generally the whole so-called pro-ana movement on the internet and how people idolizes and strives for mental illnesses in order to slim down. (I've seen people writing "I want to become anorexic, so I can be skinny". What the fuck, man!?) I can already feel my rage evolving, haha.
(on a side note - I don't really think I've been starving myself in order to lose the 6 kgs I mentioned this time, but because I've been so broke that I couldn't afford eating more than one meal if any these days. Yes, I'd like to loose just a few more, but I want to do it the healthy way. I know it's really hypocritical, haha. And also, even if I loose 3 kg more, I will still be within the healthy range on the BMI scale. I'm far from planning to get under it.)

The difference between you and I.

His skin brushes against my t-shirt for every inhale in his lungs, and I feel the confirmation of his existence for every slight movement he makes. The anonymous boy has now unlocked his name, the name that I had ringing through my insides along the cold winter nights. He was still pure when I met him. Soft-spoken words and gentle gestures gave him away, his whole persona genuine and amiable enough to sense from distance.

Astonished, I gaze over the wonder laying beside me on this roadkill of a bed, letting my eyes fall upon every characteristics in his face, finding the curve of his amor bow pronounced in a somehow submissive way. Drawn to every dip in his face, every rugosity that reflects back at me. He's not perfect, but his subtle nature shines through and his eyes express greater smiles than his mouth would ever be able to.

Though his eyes had never seen horrors, he wasn't blind.

Post-sex fragrances and the mist of the 4'o’clock atmosphere mingles together in this small, dim room where we lay. Judging from the slow, deep breaths and the stillness of his twitches, he's fast asleep. Though all surroundings are silent, I hear slight whispers evolving into pleas and questions inside of me, and from that turning into exclamation marks and screams. It's not as simple as it sounds. The breeze can carry an inquiring voice. Creaks can be painful sobs. But the stillness of them all are what chokes me easiest. When silence occurs it gets easier for me to hear my demons calling. My eyes are heavy and pleads for rest while my stomach begs to be filled. And this is the part where I battle between logic reasons and reasonable logics.

So I plant my lips a few subtle times along his nape, my fingertips brushing along his spine and rise myself slowly from the mattress. I'm careful enough to not cause any creaks when my foot finds the wooden floor, light enough to not cause any movements when I lift myself up from the bed. I wander off to find my pants pooling on the couch, hook the belt into the sixth homemade hole in the leather, and slip into my shoes carefully. Grab the keys, pull an extra shirt over my bedhead, take the left-over of his now-cold pizza slice and close the door.

The wind outside is bone-chilling and harsh. My spine shakes. It's this time of the morning where people either sleep or have just received their mandatory, mediocre orgasms with strangers they promise to call back, a promise bound to be broken. Only until next time, when they feel the need of warmth against their bodies because they have gotten too cold inside and they can't cope with it their frostbites any longer. That's where they call the faceless creature. I know exactly how this is, because I am one of them.

My legs stagger for a bit as I walk into the dark, looking for a neon sign to pop up somewhere. I can't breathe as my shoes continuously hits the ground faster by every step I take as I end up running, my mind desperate for this poison I need in order to live. Light green letters illuminates the half-lid sky, and this is where I fail to remember what happened afterwards.

Slowly I wake up from my hibernation as an unknown clump of sogginess slides down my throat. The neon letters are nowhere near me, but the sky has lightened up naturally. Packets of poison wrapped in plastic lay beside me. I lasted four days this time. Just four weak days.

My hands find their way up to my face, fingers sliding into the wet, saliva-filled gap to push me over the edge as I cough hard enough to provoke my insides to turn over. My abs presses together, my body trembles and pain forms in my eye-ducts as I rid myself of all the bad things I carry inside. I rid myself of the desires to be hurt, the need to get away, the need to get off, the silence in his room and the demons in my head. I rid myself of hatred, the beatings, the abstinences, the imperfection.

I rid myself of the heartbeats, the fascination, the kisses and the first-time-told words with kindness.

I rid myself of his love I'm not supposed to be offered.

A pool of liquid mentality stares back at me from the dirt under me as I drag my guiltless, clean hand over my vomit-stained chin, panting for air to fill up my lungs and pleading for the rapid pounding in my chest to leave me alone. I'm left of immorality, and I'm lightheaded. I'm okay, I'm good to go. For now.

I penetrate the lock with the key and carefully close the door behind me. I slip out of my shoes, unhook the belt at the sixth homemade hole in the leather, let my pants pool over the couch, and climb silently into bed. His beautiful, closed eyes are facing me, his body at peace. Subconsciously I brush my lips against the outer corner of his mouth. His pure, sweet lips.

I never asked for any of this. I never asked to be loved, never wanted to love anyone else than her, I thought I never needed this. My heart cries after him while my brain desperately tries to fight it. But while my heart and my brain argues, my body can't help but react.

-------
this is just a small sketch of a "chapter" I'm planning for my character, William. He's mainly the only person I write about when I write fiction. Oh well. More to come someday.

La mer.

Et il est un jour arrivé

marteler le ciel

et marteler la mer

Et la mer avait embrassé moi

Et la délivré moi de ma caille

Rien ne peut m'arrêter maintenant