Clumsiness? I need a piece of advice, please

I have a peculiar problem: I can’t seem to find my balance. It must look pretty funny when I’m on a driving bus and it seems a little dangerous when by bike. I can’t figure out if this is just me or if anyone else have experienced the same? I’m open for any help I can get. Literally any!

I have had it earlier (during my last depression) but it almost pasted – and now it is back in full strength again. I really don’t know what to do about it. I’m trying to get used to taking the bus, sitting next to the door and holding on to everything and anything I can find. Luckily it can be camouflaged as clumsiness most of the time. And so far I didn’t fall over and hurt myself.

Over and out.


Sleep tight.. 

My sleeping habits are structured, yet out of control. Work shapes the sleeping patterns. I start at eight. It takes me forty minutes to get there and I like to be there a little early. So my alarm rings at six. I finished work between two and three. When I come home, I’m tired and take a nap. For two hours. And in the evenings I go to bed at ten in order to get up at six. 

I realize that it is not much compared to people who are more sick than I am now, still.. It is a lot of sleep. And when I don’t nap, I sleep too long in the morning and have to run out of the door (with no breakfast!!). 

Does it ever go away? I have asked myself the same question on the whole journey of healing. So do it? It usually does but it takes time. It is very frustrating now and in next month or the one after it might be something else that it the matter. Great… 

Over and out 

I am sorry for what I did when I was insane

Actually really sorry. I can think of the first handful of things I should never have done because it hurt somebody and at least a handful of amazing people I lost because I was cray cray and hypo manic years ago. Even though it was years ago I still regret it. Why has it come up now? I don’t know. Is it still relevant? I have no clue. I really don’t want to bring it up or ask if I hurt someone. It is painful.

I feel that I shouldn’t blame what I did on the illness. But it gives me an explanation for why I reacted so extremely (Let’s face it, I would have gotten drunk, confronted people and been angry anyway). It doesn’t give me a solution or a way out of my shame though.

Over and out.

Reminders of what I want to forget

I have been reminded lately about stuff I would like to be without. Suicide and my psychosis. How you might ask? Well. First of all I have done the mistake to get hooked on the series Mr. Robot in which (spoiler alert) Elliot is having a massive psychosis. It hurts to watch. Also there is short film festival on in my town at the moment. Rethinking Normality is the name. On Friday there is a screening of Kærlighedens Smerte followed by a debate on suicide. My mind is a little too fragile to even think of it. The bad thoughts (and the use of PN (oxapax)) have taken over. I really thought I was getting better. Why are they even back? The thoughts.

Now excuse me, I need an oxapax.

Over and out.

If I mention to a job interview that I am ill, I will never get hired.

I never thought about this. I even thought my illness would be a strength when applying for job on projects for people with similar vulnerabilities. I guess not. They will ditch me, it seems. That is a little unfair I think. If I am asked about illnesses at a job interview, how can I tell the truth without waving the job goodbye?

Over and out.

A mixed episode aid-project

I had a mixed episode last year. It has the peek that it let me be productive for a little while. So I drafted an aid-project. I looked at it just now. It is feasible but not perfect. I could apply for some funding I guess… I remember my mom made a comment to my psychologist: She might as well have said ‘stupid stupid little girl with her aid-project’. I think that is how she is feeling now as well when I am writing a children’s book out of boredom. (currently not very good, but it keeps my busy)

Anyway, back to the aid-project. It is pretty okay if I should say it myself. But it is written in a mixed episode and it shows. It needs some love – and I need a partner; so if anyone if from central/south Italy and want to do an aid-project (for migrants) with me, please get in touch.

Over and out.

A sick tale

I want to tell you a story. It started with a sick girl. She had a stomach ache for years. She tried anything she could think of in terms of special diets. It made a different but never treated the cause.

This girl had a panic attack in the school canteen. No big deal.

This girl went travelling. Maybe things would be better away from home. But not really. New faces, new structures, new challenges. She stopped eating.

This girl came home. She was exhausted – and thin. No big deal.

She started working. Still thin. Her days went on like in a mist. Unclear. Everyone saw something was wrong.

That was my first depression. I share it with you because I have never said it out loud to anyone. I have never said how sick I was when I was 18.

Thanks for listening. Over and out.