My luck.

So yesterday didn't go exactly after the plan. I did end up making that carrot lasagna, though.

I went to the doctor and had a talk with her about some of the bodily issues I've had for a while and she set me up with one of her collegues who could take some blood samples. I had to get 6 different samples taken for a few different things. I've never had a problem with having blood samples taking, far from it - I actually think it's quite fascinating to look at and I tend to "enjoy" them. My veins are quite bad though, it's always difficult for them to find a "good" vein to dig into, and it's also difficult to keep me bleeding (after one bloodsample my veins tend to be all "NOPE AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN TODAY" and I just stop bleeding).
So we ended up having to try both of my arms, so I have two very tender bruises on the inner side of each elbow that hurt like hell. And to top it off - I originally had to get 6 different samples taken, but after one and a half I felt extremely dizzy, my vision began to fade and I couldn't hear anything and suddenly I was laying down instead of sitting up. So yeah, I passed out and had to lie on a brink for a good 20 minutes after gaining consciousness again. I find it kind of funny because a few of the samples were to check if I suffer from anemia, lol.
After a while I was sent home but felt too tired and (still) dizzy, so Jonas and I decided to call it off for the day. But I did make the lasagna for myself (which was really delicious btw).

I've fainted a few times in my life and I think it tends to be at really inconvinient places. I once passed out at a concert and accidentally banged my head while falling on a metalstand in front of me, so I missed about an hour of the concert. Another time I fainted at a metro station (and also ended up puking on myself before the ambulance arrived). I've also fainted while I was about to cross a crowded street.

I'd also like to mention this; I actually managed to cut myself on a fridge today. I didn't even know that was possible until the fridge attacked me with its door and scraped a good layer of skin off my wrist. So now I have these nice bruises that looks like I've done heroin, I also look like I've tried to kill myself. (seriously, it's RIGHT on top of my vein and it's "down the street, not across".) I'm pretty sure my fridge is plotting a murder. 

Reading through this entry, I'm pretty convinced karma is making me pay, haha. 

I get off my feet but I'm still distant.

It's been a little while since my last update, so I thought I'd just fill some things out.
Jonas is coming over in a few hours, and I'm going to make dinner for us which might be the first time I actually do that, haha. In all the time we've known each other, it has always been him who has made dinner for us, so I hope I can live up to that (I'm not the best cook in the world). But I'm going to make carrot lasagna, and if it's possible to find the right ingredients, it will also be vegan. He has the idea that vegan food isn't as good as "normal" food, so I'm gonna see if I can fool him with fake cheese.
We haven't seen much of each other lately, but I was with him yesterday and it just made me really calm and happy. We're going to work on seeing each other more often. It'll be kind of hard in a few months though. He's currently on a waiting list for a hospital ward placed in Roskilde which is quite far away and a bit expensive to go more than once a week. I hope it'll turn out good though, and he's looking forward to getting the help he really needs.

I'm going to the doctor later because of a few things going on with my body, hopefully we find some ways for me to get better. I'm suspecting I might be anemic because I have all the symptoms which sucks. I'm probably also going to get my joints checked since they hurt and my back, too. And my stomach is being weird too, so all around a complete body check, lol.
I can't figure out whether or not to tell her about my eating habits as they have been for the last few months. It probably has something to do with why my body is hurting, but yeah.. A part of me knows I should tell her about it and get help, but another part of me wants to go lower. I gained a kg the last few days so my BMI is back to 16 now which I still know is very low and all, but I constantly have this thing inside me that tells me that just 2 kg more wouldn't harm me, that 44 is where I need to be. I know it's fucked up and I know it has come to a place that's far from healthy. I know I should tell her, but at the same time, if I admit it, it will mean that I actually do have a problem with it again and it scares me. It's a bit difficult to explain this actually.
It's not normal to get anxiety attacks because you've eaten pasta.

On another note, I ordered the doctor's journal from the time I was hospitalized those 3 years ago, I think it'll be interesting to read. I know I let out a lot of negative emotions on my blog, but it's not because I'm always feeling bad, far from it. I function somewhat okay in daily life, things just tend to build up and this is where I spill them out. But it'll be interesting to read about "the past me" and compare to where I am now, because holy shit my mind was fucked up back then.

Hopefully in the new year I'm starting up at the school I went to earlier this year again, though at another "line". It'll be the creative line this time, so I'm really looking forward to that! Not doing anything everyday is a bore by now and I really feel the need to do something soon. So yes, I am excited about this.
My sleeping patterns have also been perfect for the last weeks and I'm really stoked about this. :)

Ikke smerte nok, jeg må veje det op, lade nålen skære igennem mit pigment mens blodet pibler op.

I'm just going to write a bit about the last few days. I had a meltdown some days ago and posted the most pathetic and negative entry in the history of the world, but deleted it after I got some sleep. So if anyone read that - I'm sorry, I'm normally not that negative and whiny, I don't really know what came over me.

The last few days have been good. I went to the cinema with some fellow residents today, followed up by eating at a restaurant afterwards. I had a good time with them, also ended up going for a 3-hour-walk with one of the girls who will be moving in within the next months. I have never really had a conversation with her before since she lives in the other house, but she's seems really nice. I enjoyed our walk.
Yesterday I intended to have an isolation-day, but Laura came over and then I kind of ditched that whole idea because hanging out with Laura is awesome. Emilia also came over and the three of us just talked for a while. I also convinced Emilia to eat 12 "flødeboller" in 5 minutes... She felt pretty ill after that, haha.
I visited my mum over the weekend. I've really missed her, so it was great to see her and catch up on things.

And my sleep schedule has been normal for the last few days! This is beyond amazing. I've been able to fall asleep early, not wake up in the middle of the night, and wake up in the morning. It's been so good and I guess I'm just really excited about this.
Oh, and last night I dreamt that I was in a fight with a midget. I don't even...

I just have to keep myself going, because I tend to fall quite hard these days. Because of the last few days with socializing I've been in a better state of mind. I won't say I feel good, but the days have been good and I've been okay. Last week was really horrible though, lots of anxiety, loneliness, debating with myself whether or not to give up, and generally just feeling worse than I have in a long time. I'm spending tomorrow with Jonas, so I have nice plans for tomorrow aswell. I'm looking forward to seeing him again.

And this song is amazing.

About childhood.

In some aspects I'm very childish. Mostly about the things that are considered "for children only", as toys and playing around. I don't consider it a bad thing, far from it actually, because it's somehow a way I can escape from my head for just a little while.
From the time I began to grow conscious of things and up to the age of 13, I don't actually consider it as my childhood. I was always careful of my surroundings and scared of doing something wrong. My parents stopped getting along shortly after I was born, which led to me feeling like I was the reason of their divorce. My father was an alcoholic who spent most of the time either at work, sleeping or drinking and my mum had a depression, so I had to be careful of doing something that could upset them.
I think the thing that set everything off was a night when I was about 6 years old. It wasn't unnatural to hear them yelling at each other, but this time it was really bad. I remember I heard my father slamming the door and leaving, and I could hear my mum sobbing loudly in the kitchen. Her crying only got worse, and I remember hearing her pretty much sobbing out "I'm going to kill myself" to herself, so I got out of my room next door and tried to comfort her. I let her cry out and tried to make her feel better. Thinking back at it, I think it's disturbing that I knew what suicide meant at that age. I spent the night trying to comfort her and talking with her, and somehow it changed something inside of me. From that night on, I always tried to be around her in case of anything bad should happen to her and by doing that I threw a part of myself away.
Their divorce was hard on me, and when my father was diagnosed with lung cancer it all just became too much. At that time I was bullied in school and didn't have any friends either, so it felt very alone. I remember one incident where they threw dead craneflies after me, which is not quite fun when you're scared of them (I still am, lol).
 My father now lived about an hour away from us and his drinking only got worse. He managed to recover, but fell ill again shortly after. This time, things went fast and he kept getting worse. I was 12 when he passed away.
My mum's new boyfriend and I never got along, and he would regularly tell me I wasn't worth much. He has flat out called me a monster and told me that everything would be better if I didn't exist. My peers told me pretty much the same, so I started to believe that I was a mistake.
I developed an eating disorder and started thinking about ending my life when I was 10, which is fucked up. At 10 I was already trying to destroy myself.

This is roughly what my childhood looked like, up till I was 12. I never really got to play and I never really allow myself to be a kid because of the circumstances. I never felt like the other kids. Along with the things that did happen, I also happened to have a fragile mind so it was all just too much for me.

I think the reason why I love things associated with being a child is because I never really got to fully experience that part of my life. I want to experience a real childhood, I want to play around and be careless, because I never really got to do that when it was appropiate.
I hate growing up and getting older, because it's only a reminder that I will never be able to go back. For me, being childish, fingerpainting and watching Moomin is an escape from my own head. In that second, I can pretend I'm a kid, that I don't have to worry about anything related to adulthood. I can simply be free and not care about anything. It's a comfort for me to escape into that little universe. It means I wont have to be grounded to my own thoughts.
I'd give close to anything to get a second childhood. Since it's not quite possible, I let myself fall into that little world once in a while. I have a love for Peter Pan because of these things. 

The difference between medicine and poison is in the dose.

Emma and I. It was taken by Mikkel a month ago while we were in Tisvilde.

It's almost 3 AM, and I'm sitting at home while listening to the rain and enjoying a cigarette. Today has been one of the best nights I've had in a really long time. It's Mortens Aften (a Danish "half-holiday" which no one I've asked knows the reason of), so I was invited to eat at my boyfriend's family. It's a tradition to eat duck on Mortens Aften and luckily I absolutely love duck. In Denmark, it's quite rare to eat duck - only on Mortens Aften and Christmas Eve. Needless to say I ate myself silly, haha.
Then I spent a lot of the evening just cuddling up with Jonas and being our silly selves. I love how calm we both get when we're together. I don't write about him very often, but it's because we don't see each other that much these days. I'm so happy to have him in my life. We've been together for a year and a half in less than a month.

In other news, I walked 20 km with Emilia a few days ago. It's probably the worst idea we've ever had. It was cold, raining and in the middle of the night with sore feet. We walked from Frederiksberg station to Høje Taastrup station. There was no point in walking that far, it just started out as an short evening walk as we normally do when we hang out, but after a while it turned into a "how far can we go before quitting?"-walk. We got home at 3 AM and felt a bit like dying, haha.
I'm pretty sure it's the most stupid idea we've ever brought to life. All the other ideas we've had has usually had a point in it, but this one.... I have no idea why.

And some sad news - the doctor who has put many transpersons on hormones has decided to stop providing hormone replacement therapy. There's a reason why a good part of transpersons in Copenhagen got hormones from him - Sexologisk Klinik rarely accept people as transgender, let alone put them on hormones. If you've ever gotten any form of help from the psychiatric system in Denmark while being transgender, Sexologisk Klinik won't accept you because they see you as mentally unstable - despite getting the help from the psychiatric system many years ago.
I have a diagnosis and have spent a good while in the system, so unless they change their rules soon (their rules haven't changed since they opened their clinic 25 years ago), I will probably never get on testosterone again, unless I do something illegal to get them.
Those who have gotten their hormones from the mentioned doctor above for 5 years - they're forced to go off estrogen/testosterone for at least a year until Sexologisk Klinik "decides" if they're "trans enough" to go on hormones again. Even if they've been on hormones for years and have only gotten happier - they will still be forced to quit for at least a year.
I can't really manage thinking about my own situation - the doctor I mentioned above was the one who gave me my testosterone prescription, and the chance of me ever getting accepted at Sexologisk Klinik is so small. I'm trying not to think about it at all right now because I'm already under a lot of stress and this will not help in any way at all. I'm just going to avoid thinking about it as good as I can.

I'm okay right at this moment, I feel content and it's probably because I was together with Jonas. And as you can guess, I called the rawfood-thing off for now, but hopefully I can do it soon.
I can't sleep, so I'm thinking about finishing a painting I've worked on, write a little if I can get the right words out, do a light workout or maybe writing a new entry with a theme. Let's see if I actually get to do one of the things, I rarely don't.

Et la mer avait embrassé moi.

I'm just thinking about a lot of different things, and I think it might be good to just write it down. This is really most of all just a "note to self", if I can call it that.

One thing I'm thinking about is strange. I'd honestly like to know how others see and read me, because right now I have no idea how others percieve me. I have a lot of different sides just like anyone else, but I'm just wondering if the things they think of me differs from how I percieve myself.
One thing I'm more or less sure of is that some read me as willing to hear them out and caring about others. I know some do that, but I don't really know anything else.
I'm also thinking a little bit about how I see myself. Sometimes it can be hard for me to point out what "the real me" is, and what is actually the illness. When I'm feeling good, I'm very much able to point the two different sides of me out and see the difference between my real self and the illness. When I'm not feeling good, it's more of a blurred line that defines the two parts of me and I can never really figure out what this and that is.
But what people think of me, both those who just talk with me for an hour and those who have been in my life for years, I wonder what they think of me, what kind of person they see me as.

Also, I'm thinking about getting older and what life will be like when I'm 30+, what I want and what I can get out of life. I can't have children, neither biological nor adopting. When I was younger, I never wanted to have children at all, but the thought has grown on me for the last year or so. I actually do want to have kids one day, but in order to do that I will have to sacrifice my own mental health in trying to get them.
If I were to get biological children, I would have to go on estrogen for a few months in order to freeze down biological matters for a surrogate mother. I was faced with this option last year, which was a hard and mentally exhausting thing to face when you're only 18. I knew that if I went on a estrogen for even just a few months, I would most likely end up killing myself, so I passed it down.
I can't adopt children because I have a diagnosis. Not that I want to have kids anywhere in the next many years, but it's still something that concerns me. If I were to have kids, I'd be around 30.

A thing that I'm both happy and sad about is that one of my roommates, Emma, told me that she's moving out in 2 months. I'm really happy for her because she has struggled with many things and has come so far in life and she is finally ready to live on her own. A small part of me is sad and disappointed in myself because I moved in before her in the previous house and left that house to move to this instead before her, and now I'm told I have to stay for another year while she's ready to "be set free". When she leaves, then I'm the only one left of the bunch we started out as - everyone is living on their own. And at that time, I'd still have a year more to spend here.
I guess I'm just disappointed in myself that I haven't gotten better like most of them have, that while they're out living regular lives I will still be stuck here in old patterns.
No doubt that I'm happy and extremely proud of her to get so well in just 2 years, no doubt at all. It's just myself I see as a problem.
And now we're at it, I'm put under a lot of pressure right now here in this house. I am beyond broke and have a 8000 DKK-debt because I can't pay rent due to my lack of money, and I've pretty much been told that I have a week to pay back or else I might get kicked out. It's not the residency's choice, but the munipacity. They don't think I'm willing to coporate with them.
They don't think I'm willing to coporate with them because I can't just sleep and wake up at normal times of the day, because I can't just get out and get an education or a job. Because I haven't done enough progress, because I haven't gotten as much better as they'd want me to be.

I just feel like I don't have any sort of control over what's happening in my life on top of the things that is going on inside my head. The loneliness I can't seem to shake of is starting to get worse, and my relations to Sputnik is coming back. That I can see everyone around me and I can call out to them, but never get any signals back while being in a whole different sphere than the rest and watching them from the distance. I'm down to exactly 47 kg and old habits are kicking in, but right now I just need this in order to cope with everything else. I can't deal with the things happening in my life and I can't deal with my dysphoria.

I've had a pretty intense headache that wouldn't go away despite taking some extra painkillers, an upset stomach and felt tired all day, and right now my heart is beating really fast and loud despite sitting completely still. I think I'm off to paint and listen to some relaxing music now. I know this entry has been really negative, but I should also say that I'm okay, I just needed to get some things out.

Everytime I rise I see you falling.

Today is the second day in a row that I've eaten sushi. And just to top it off - it was free. And there was Chinese food, too. And I got a ride to the restaurant and back home. I feel lucky.

Yesterday was nice, I went to a café with Emilia and drank some coffee and later we headed to one of my favorite sushi restaurants. I just had a good time with her, despite ending up so full that it hurt to just walk. I know I might mention Emilia a bit often, but she's the person I spend most of my time with so I always feel weird I haven't seen her in just a few days... We've been friends for three years now, and in the last two of them we just started seeing each other more and gradually became close friends. I know it's weird to say, but she's probably somehow one of the persons in my life that holds me together in a way. She's a big support, an amazing fool and a confidential, dear friend.

And today I've been out at another restaurant to celebrate and say goodbye to Mikkel because he moved out yesterday. I had a good time and the food was delicious. When I came home, Emma and I held a competition to see who could get to wear the most clothing items in 10 minutes. She managed to wear 22 different pieces of clothing, so yeah... she won, haha. It was beautiful.
I also learned that wearing 4 pairs of skinny jeans at the same time makes it pretty painful to walk around in.

Tomorrow I'm officially starting the rawfood-week, and I'm actually a bit excited to see how it'll turn out. The worst part is that I can't drink coffee though... I really hope it'll help with my immune system because I'm still slightly sick and it feels like ages since my body has been "normal".
I've found a raw "lasagna" recipe that I'm gonna try out one of these days, hoping for the best!

But yeah, I think these two days have been really nice. Other than I accidentally cut my hair in the strangest haircut and I now have to cover it with a headpiece everytime I walk outside, lol. Maybe I should just chop the rest of it off so it can grow out even. (It's only my bangs that are "long", the rest of my head is currently 30 mm.. Yes, even the crown of my head. I don't even know what I was thinking. Or if I was thinking.)
But I'm in a calm, nice mood right now, so everything feels okay.

Black eyed.

I'm thinking about giving rawfoodism a try for a week or two, just to see how it is and if it changes anything compared to my eating habits at the moment. My health has been kind of fucked for a while, I keep getting sick and my stomach keeps acting up, so I'm just going to see if it changes any of that. Maybe it will also give me some motivation to prepare more nutritional meals, so I think I'm gonna give it a go for just a little while.
I've thought about going vegan for a good while, and I think I'll try it out after Christmas. I actually don't think it'll be hard at all since I rarely eat meat/dairy products anyway.
I also hope that it might improve my mood, I've read that many of those who switch to rawfoodism tend to feel more positive and energic in comparison to their prior eating habits.

I was supposed to start up on testosterone again this week and I did use one of the satchets with testogel one of the days, but I realised that this is just not the time for me to start up again. I need to feel just a bit better before going on hormones again and I need to have more control over my daily life, because right now it doesn't really have a path or point of any ways.
It's kind of sad to realise since my dysphoria is way more overwhelming and painful than it normally is these weeks. It's always there, some days it's not that bad and it's something I can live with despite the pain, but then there are times like this where it gets out of control.

On another note, I'm scared of relapsing. I don't remember self-harming any time in 2012, but the urge to do it still comes once in a while. These days I've been thinking about it a lot. The following might be slightly triggering.
When I get the urge to self-harm, I usually see it in a sort of mental picture. I always have a specific place where I need to do it, like an exact spot on my thigh or a line across my hip. I always "see" how the wounds need to be, how deep they should be and how close to each other they should end up. Once the pictures pop up in my head, it's difficult for them to leave unless I act on them.
I'm dealing quite bad with those pictures these days and I can't really snap out of them. I haven't harmed myself for so long, so on one side I feel like it's okay for me to do it just this time, but on the other side I haven't done it for so long that it would be like self-sabotaging if I did end up doing it.

I'm not feeling good, I feel that loneliness I've mentioned before, I feel dysphoric and I feel awfully tired despite not being able to sleep.