Traumatized!

It's a curse, it really is! Every single damn year at Christmas, I hurt myself somehow. I mean, I've had dislocated ligaments in shoulders and wrists, sprained ancles, backspasms and that wonderful year where my throat was an open wound caused by overproducing stomach acids.

And this year, I god damn get a fiber rupture in my elbow. In. My. Sleep. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am now a danger to myself while SLEEPING! How the hell did I manage that?! I go to bed feeling nothing but tired, I sleep, I wake up, attempt to stretch, and scream in agony.

So after being unable to unbend my right arm for about a day and a half, I finally decided to swing by the ER and make sure nothing was stuck. I mean, I knew that, sooner or later, I'd have to just bite back the pain and stretch it. I just wanted to make sure nothing would.. snap or something, when I did. I have no need to break a muscle in two, right now. A couple of X-rays and raised eyebrows by various doctors who didn't understand how the hell I managed to do this, later, I was drugged with painkillers, and told I'd just have to stretch it gradually till I could actually relax my arm and let it hang by my side.

So far, I've managed to do it 3 times. There's one point where it really hurts like it's being kicked by a racehorse. But once I get past that point, it's really not so bad anymore. I'm hoping it'll be back to normal by monday.

I'm contemplating if I'm too tired to mention the absolutely insane christmas night I had. After all the family stuff, it was like we entered the twilight zone. Helene got "married" to a friend, by a polish guy in my bar, while the local hero, the best boxer Denmark has to offer, was dancing with his mother right across the room, thoroughly drunk. A friend of mine attempted to shove his tongue down my throat, and we all went to The Rock to celebrate the newlyweds. Once there, a guy who had followed us from the bar, got escorted out for bothering customers, and the friend mentioned before, fairly drunk by then, completely overstepped my boundaries for physical contact, and got the telling off of his life. I've rarely been as aggressive as that moment, and chose to simple walk off and leave him to his stupidity and shame, rather then smash his face in or have someone else do it better then I could.

I turned down an 18-year old with a laugh and the sentence "Honey, you're not old enough to play with me!" which was totally awesome. Helene was kidnapped by a stranger, later known as Frederik, who lifted her up, carried her to the dancefloor - me running after him, hitting him in the back of the head with my waterbottle - and danced the heck out of her. I gave up trying to save her, and got caught myself, by a disgusting person who kept attempting to grab my ass. It was very cool that I could uphold my balance in 4 inch heels, and still look graceful, turning out of his grasp and keep on dancing at a distance from him. No falling or stumbling.

Oh yeah, did I mention my lovely little bat had a roast in a Toys'R'us bag in the coatcheck all night? My evening ended at 6.30 am, when I finally hit my pillow, after a couple of drunken calls from the friend who completely violated my personal space in his drunkeness. Needless to say, he is now being watched closely; further attempts at close proximity will not be tolerated. We're a couple of people who is now considering sitting him down and talking to him, cause generally he's prone to cross the limits of sociably acceptable behaviour, when it comes to touch. And we're a lot of people who're sick of it. The girls for having to tell him to back off, constantly, and the guys for simply being embaressed or about to give up on making him realize he's actually violating us. It's very small things, like stroking your back, leaning too close, touching your shoulder, but it's constantly, and if you try to move away, he follows. And retreating from someone is a very obvious rejection, not an invitation to try harder.

Ugh, now I'm getting aggitated again. I don't care, one more time and I'll kick him where it hurts the most.

Despite the tone of all this, I'm actually smiling happily..

And it's christmas yet again. Never really been one for this season. It's cold and wet, windy, there's too many people with too many shopping bags crowding the streets. You can go to the supermarket 4 times, break your back with the loads of food you drag home, and still, 5 minutes before the grand, traditional christmas dinner is served, you'll realized you forgot something.

"Christmas is about tradition. Family, friends, being with the people you love." Bullshit. Christmas is about food and presents. At least, that's what it's become. The only traditions firmly held alive in my family, is that I get to pick the tree, with my granddad. And sooner or later, I'll have to pass the torch; There's kids in the family again. Oh yeah, and the stress! That's pretty traditional too.

And this year, even I've been stressed. And I usually don't get stressed at all. I just work that much faster to make up for being busy. I've been responsible for all the game-prizes this year. I've taken care of the tree, the candy, the grocerylists, the organizing and communication. It's been hell. With snow and traffic being bitches the last few days, and my grandparents having to help my cousin with all the financial stuff for the new place, and mom just tagging along in stead of stepping up, it's been kinda on me. At least I don't have to cook. It'd disappoint people, grandma just cooks better then the rest of us, period.

My home is a huge mess right now. I simply don't have the time to clean up and.. refind my floor. I miss it, it used to be soft, walking through the room. Now I trip over hangers and discarded outfits. I want to take a full day out of the calendar and just scrub everything down! Right now! And I don't have time -.- I have 20 minutes till I'm leaving for the grandparent's, and who knows when I'll be home again.

Anyhow. Despite everything, at least December hasn't been that horrible. I've actually put a muter on my mood so I wouldn't annoy people with how.. I'm not going to say happy, just.. content, I am. I guess I just feel at ease, peaceful somehow. And I'm aware that a lot of people around me aren't, so I try to tone it down, though it's not that much fun to be in a good mood when you can't share it with anyone.

For some reason, every time I'm genuinely in a happy place, I'm the only one. I rarely have the space to really share my joy, without having to edit. There's always going to be someone who gets jealous, annoyed, sad. Someone who'll claim indifference or disapproval, someone who just doesn't want to hear about it. And it really kills it for me. I mean, I rarely ever want to be the center of attention. Mostly, I don't like to be. If I have something interesting to bid in with, then sure, I'll take the stage for a couple of minutes, but I'm perfectly fine on the bench, observing other people. But sometimes, there's just so much joy in me I feel like I'm going to explode. Emotion overload. I listen to so many people blabber on and on about their stuff, and I throw myself wholeheartedly into their pain or passion. I try to understand them. I just never really get that kind of response myself. I get comments and opinions, if there's even an interest in hearing me. There's attempts, but the difference between making it seem like you're listening and actually doing it, is so significant and obvious.

I'll rather tell the cat when I'm happy. With him, at least I can't tell if he's actually just thinking of the next batch of tuna he'll get, when he seems like he pays attention.

Let go of the wheel, let your mind take the passengerseat.

It's idiotic, that it takes the crumbling of one person, to make another realize their strength. A number of years ago, I was the one who crumbled, who didn't think I'd ever get back up. And if I got up, I would be less of a person then I was before. I was the one who truly believed I had lost myself to another person, that I'd altered everything, to make them stay just another moment. Even if that moment wasn't anywhere near the bliss we once had.

And I see this incredibly important person, in my life, who means the world to me, crumble. And I try to reach out and listen, I don't know if it does any good, but I'll be damned before I'll leave her to fend for herself. I know she has the strength in her, to get through her troubles, and I know she currently lacks the will. Not a day goes by, without me hoping a solution will magically appear, and I hope so feverently that things will turn to the better for her. I have to try and joke about it, sometimes, just to see her smile, when it all gets too serious, and I do my best to switch topics when I can see her choking up. And I just want to.. fix it?

It's not my place to fix anything. It's my place to stand solidly by her side, and let her know she has me, no matter what happens. I think she deserves better. I won't deny it, and it's no secret. I know how hard it is for her to let anyone in. And I don't think she ever really has let anyone in as close as she wants to. Or wishes she knew how to do. And we're so very alike, right there.

The other day, I had to hide how angry it made me, how mad her tears really made me. How I wanted to shake her and tell her to just.. hold onto herself. It's so important. Throughout all your life, so many people will come and go. The only thing you really know for sure you have from birth to death, is yourself. Everything else.. You may care about it, hate it, love it, adore it, not understand it or not believe it. But you're all you have in the end, and you HAVE to hold onto that.

I learned my lesson. But I learned a very good one. I learned that a person can survive, even when they feel so broken, blinking seems an unreasonable task. I learned that a heart heals, no matter how huge a chunk is taken out of it. And I learned, that no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much it feels like you'll never be the same again, or even remotely close to mended, you will get to a point where you can look back and say "I'm glad I had that, for as long as I got to have it. It made me happy, and it hurt to lose, but the pain only confirms how many good things I had to mourn."

I wouldn't have truly been able to say this and believe it, six months ago. It took a person, so different from everything I knew, all the stubborness to match mine, who came in and said so simple words to me, that I felt like an absolute moron for not having thought it before. "Just shut up, stop thinking so much, and enjoy it."

I've been adopting a new lifestyle this past year. And I wish I could show the world how much of a difference it has made in my life. Enjoy the present, don't linger with the past. Remember it, fondly. It gives the most enchanting feeling of complete peace. It makes it so much easier.

A very few selected people know how hard it has been for me, that my best friend decided to leave our friendship behind. I don't think any of them realize that the emotion that takes up the most room in me, when I think of it, when I think of him, is happiness. Happiness for the fact that I got to have such an amazing person in my life for so long. Happiness that I got to be a part of his heart, and that I achieved letting him be a part of mine. Happiness that a person with such a dark past, has found someone who lightens his path in life. He's a stubborn brat, to me he always will be. But he so deserves to be happy. If he is so without me, he should get to be.

And yes, I miss him. I miss him a lot. He was the one I confided in, the one who talked me out of ridiculous ideas, and guided me safely through my momentary insanities. He was the one who made me laugh after a long day, and was honest about it when I fucked up. He told me I was a bitch, if I was, and he did so without fear of my anger or indignation.

He was my brave and proud lion. My fuzzhead. And for that, he deserves everything life has to offer him in joy.

And I'll never find that again. Your first real love is not something you can ever have again. It's impossible. But life is kind enough to offer you a back-up disc, when the system crashes. You just have to be patient and take the time to reboot and start over.

I never got over it, no. I probably never will. I'm glad I won't! Why would I want to forget the fact that happiness is out there, for those brave enough to take it? This summer, I took a chance, and I confirmed it. I was happy. I was ecstatic, even. I couldn't wait to see a guy, even when I just left. And what many people see as an everyday thing, getting butterflies, has been absent from my life for 4 years, but I got that back. I got it back by allowing it to happen, and I didn't care a flying fuck it wasn't a great love, or even had the potential to be, I just enjoyed it.

I think happiness lies in allowing yourself it. Whatever your method may be, whereever your key is to be found, it is there for everyone to grasp. No matter what happened in the past. Hoping, believing, achieving.

The burden of a cross

When we decided to cut contact, I took all pictures, all letters, all the little reminders down. The files on my computer that has to do with him, I put in locked folders. I took all his poems and the old edition of his book, and put them with everything else, every physical proof of his existance, in a locked box, in the back of my closet. The necklace his girlfriend got me last christmas, and the necklace I used to wear to always remember him, a cross with an angel wing hanging around it. Everything was put away.

It seems... impossible. To take 6 years and put them in a tiny box. It should be a whole chest, it should have its own room. But it's so small. So insignificant. It's just plain wrong. That such a big part of me, fits into this tini tiny box, when the memories and emotions barely fit in my heart and mind.

Some things have gotten completely unrealistic, this last year.

And now I'm wearing my cross again. Just to have him with me, in some form.

Reversed perspective?

This has been an emotionally intense day. Not really sure why. It's been about boundaries, for me, and the weird thing is I feel bad for the wrong thing.

On one hand, I have a friend.. Well, had one, anyway.. Who requested I no longer contacted him, awhile ago. And I've respected his wish. However, after awhile, I started feeling uneasy, not knowing if he was still okay. So the whole.. Cold turkey-thing, didn't last that long. Granted, I just check up on him from time to time, on the sites I know he's a part of, stuff like that. Just to see a recent update, to know he's alive. It makes it a little bit easier to breathe.

I don't really read what he writes, anymore. I find it a too direct reminder. Makes me miss his sense of humor and the discussions at 5 am. The inside-jokes from way back. Words like pudding, nuts and fuckerdoodle still makes me crack up. Well, nowadays it's more like... Hide the fact that I'm amused behind a veil of indifference. It's just easier.

However, a sentence caught my attention, about an old project of his, the other day. And I couldn't help wondering. So I read the post, and got through the whole damn thing before I even realized it. He wanted to re-do the whole thing, make the old comic again. Looking for a scetch artist and a graphic artist. But the old work was lost when the original site was shut down. So he didn't really have any examples of style.

I do, however. I used to think of myself as his back-up disc. I saved almost everything he made. Including a good bit of the comic. So I broke the silent agreement of no contact. And sent some of the old stuff to him. I pretty much expected him to delete it as soon as my name appeared on the screen, but since one of the pictures I sent is now on the forum I spotted the whole thing on, I guess not. He hasn't answered, and honestly, I hope he doesn't. It would kill me to get as much as a 'thank you', and then go back to pretending he doesn't exsist.

But I feel weird for not respecting his wish to be left alone. At the time, it seemed obvious to me, that of course I should send it to him, he made it, after all, and now needed it. But I went against his wish. And I'm not sure I'm okay with doing that.

Then there's a thing I should feel bad for, that I don't. That won't be a detailed story. At all. Sometimes I feel a little robotic, you know? Too tight, too proper. Too moral. And I've done something highly immoral, that I feel absolutely fine about. What's even worse, I've decided to feel fine about it in the future, as well. Live while you can. I'm perfectly happy with it, and I really shouldn't be, but who cares? Makes me a little more human than robot.

Oh yeah, on another (and entirely unrelated) note. My tattoo is, after 3½ years of impatience, finally done. And beautiful. And... scabbed over cause it's 2 days old XD Barely even hurt, this time. I think I said 'ow' once, and it sounded utterly bored. I didn't stir at all, except for when he sprayed the cleansing alcohol on it. T'was cold as hell frozen over. But I found myself to be very relaxed throughout the whole session. Well, maybe a little too relaxed, my foot fell asleep twice. And the tattoo artist actually at one point asked me "Tell me, doesn't it hurt like hell here, cause I'm hitting pure scar tissue?". And I just waited till the needle was gone, shrugged, and said that it was worse at the spine.

I have a pretty high tolerance for pain. The scar tissue was from the last time I attempted to get this damn thing. The guy who made it originally, actually got so deep into my skin he almost hit nerves. This new (and far more talented, not to mention experienced) guy told me that. No fucking wonder it hurt that much. He told me he was impressed I had sat there throughout that, cause he would've made a run for it. Well. Yeah, I really wanted to, it was painful as all hell. But I figured getting up, while having a vibrating needle stuck in your back, probably wouldn't make that much better.

I'm thrilled it has been fixed, now I can actually show my back again. With pride. And I'm no longer scared of having that buzzing tattooneedle near me. I've learned it doesn't hurt, in the hands of the right person. So from now on, if I should decide on anymore tattoos, I know where I'll do my shopping. Probably for piercings, too. And those I already know I want. My ears need a minimum of 3 additional holes.

So, enough for morals, corruptions of innocent minds, regrets and bodyart. I'm gonna attempt to make myself a dress tomorrow, or at least a skirt. Visiting the grandparents tends to keep me occupied. Till I go home again. Then I sit here in silence and ponder all the disaster I could cause.

Disasters make for good entertainment, when your tv is out cold, and your internet is too slow for your liking.