Posts Tagged ‘Scared’

I carry around with me this sadness in my heart, a sadness which is underlying, not hidden – but still not visible in everyday life.
And this sadness can be triggered by the simplest of things.

Like in sociology, where we’re reading The Communist Manifesto. Manifesto. Just this one word is enough to send my sadness pulsing through me. There are many manifestos out there, but there are only two I am familiar with; the communist one, and Breivik’s. And then I get really sad.

Or like in criminology. Our professor mentioned the ongoing protests, and talked about how they’d been going on “over the summer”. And then I was emotionally overwhelmed with sadness. The summer, huh? Other things happened “over the summer”, which I was more focused upon.
But he moved on, talking about Emil Durkheim, and explained his study on suicide. Suicide. That was enough to trigger both memory and sadness again. It comes pulsing, crashing through me. And all I want to do is pick up my stuff and leave, to find myself an abandoned corner of the school to sit down and cry. But then I have the academic curiosity, as well as the deep, dwelling desire to move on. And so I stay. Only to get distracted by a picture of a cop. And so it all comes back.

But the worst is when I’m in town, either driving by on the bus, or walking through/around, and I see a real, live cop. Just a bobby, out on patrol. Then I don’t get sad. I get scared. Really fucking scared. All my instincts screams out, telling me to back up, move away, run if I can or have to, but “just get the fuck away from there!” And I hate that. Obviously I don’t do as my instincts say, I calm down and continue on my way to wherever I’m supposed to be. But I recent myself and my mind, my painfully obviously strained mental health, for letting me fear so irrationally and desperately the sociopolitical/criminological organ I love and respect because I know they are there to make our lives safer and to protect us. I know this, and yet my stomach twists and turns in knots, I get nauseous and light-headed, overwhelmed with terror and fear for my life when I see them. It’s so irrational, specially coming from me, who had no part of what happened over summer, I get furious with myself for even reacting this way. When I’m done being angry with myself, I get sad again. And when I can cope with my sadness, my body is left empty and drained.

These emotional trips varies from lasting a few seconds to hours and days.  Who am I to have such fears, when I did not even have to go through any such horrors as my friends, comrades, acquaintances and other youths on that island? I was not even a bystander. And I don’t count myself among those who were directly affected by what happened. I had no close connections with anyone who were there. And yet I dare be scared and sad on the behalf of them, them being a minority of people whom I have never, and may never, seen or spoken with? Of course, I knew of a few of the people who were there, and I’m from such a small rural village that I had close friends who were/are close friends with those affected. But I am not among those people. Even so, my brain has the nerve to react like this, like I was there. Of course, even though I was not physically there, my subconsciousness has taken the privilege to portray myself and my friends, family and other acquaintances placed on that island on the day of horror, displaying every single death, every singe drop of blood spilled, to my inner eye whilst I am sleeping. And when I’m resting. I’m under strain, in a constant battle with my body and my mind, distracting myself to the point where I can rest for some time. Sleeping is not easy, because even if I was not there, I still feel like I was. I have been there in my head, so many times, over and over, seeing my loved ones die. Seeing people I have met, under any circumstances, disintegrate in front of my very eyes, like it was real, like it was really happening, over and over and over and over and over and it’s a never ending cycle of bloodbath in my subconsciousness. I am left drained of all energy and to a certain point; lifeless. I was not even there, but in my own, selfish, ignorant way; I might as well have been.

I am dysfunctional and off balance, not to the point of lunacy, but to a point where I question my own intentions. Because I feel like I am alone in being like this, as I should be and hope I am, but being alone in something means there are no one to talk about this with. And so whenever the appropriate topic comes up in a discussion, I find myself bending it one way or the other, twisting the focus to me and to what happened. So I question myself. Am I really as upset and unbalanced as I feel, or do I feel like this simply because I am an attentionwhore? Do I actually need someone to talk to, or with, or do I just have the need to have people feeling sorry for me.
Seeing as my dreams have mainly consisted of night terrors ever since then, and I feel like I’m feeling all these overwhelming emotions, I am tempted to believe these are the actual conditions, but even so, I cannot help but wonder.

I should leave things at this for now, and go find my happy place for some time.
I might actually need it 🙂

– L A♥

 

So, finally! I am here. I am at my university.
And I’m having a hell of a time! 😀
My college is among the best(if not THE best), and my flatmates are amazing!

And I actually like my room. o_O
Probably because it’s so close to the European standard I’m used to, which is great.
I can’t help it, but even though I love the british houses and all, the interior is usually… a set-back. For me.
So, anyway, things are going great! I mean, LOOK:

My room ♥

My room ♥

The picture is of course after being here for 30 minutes after unpacking, so it’s not exactly the way my room looks like now, but still.

I live on the top floor of one of the Grizedale College houses, and there are two flats at each floor.
My overall impression is that not too many people around at the colleges know everyone or get along with everyone at their flat, but because of our amazing freshers reps, Dubar and Connor (not sure how either name is written though), both my flat and the one next to us are getting along abso-friggin’-lutely awesomely well!

I actually got to England last thursday, but me and four other Norwegians stayed in Manchester for a few days.
Our thursday evening was wicked! After walking around for hours through the whole day, part of it with seriously heavy luggage, we went out clubbing in the evening. Of course, we were all nice and tipsy when we left our (friggin genius) apartment, which I sadly enough don’t have any pictures of, and wounded up at 5th Avenue, and we had the time of our lives. There were a lot of alcohol in the picture, and a heck of a lot more dancing! The music was great as well 🙂
Friday was spent mainly at the apartment, for the pure joy of recovery. Oh, and did I mention we brought a guy home with us? Yeah, we let some guy called Michael or something crash on one of our couches. We never introduced ourselves to him, and we hadn’t known him for more than 20 minutes before we left the club, but still. There were a whole lot of drama going on, so we brough him home. Friday was a relaxing day, and saturday was a bit more stressful. My vicious friend O C woke me up with the words “IT’S 20 MINUTES TIL WE’RE LEAVING, GET UP!” knowing fully well that I had not packed any of my stuff, and that there were still and hour and 20 minutes left til we had to leave. Stupid bitch♥

@ 5th Avenue ♥

@ 5th Avenue ♥

The arrival at Lancaster went pretty easy, my taxi driver was kind enough to take almost all of my luggage to the reception thingy for my college, and when I got there, two guys were assigned to take all my luggage to my room and show me where I live. Poor bastards, carrying about 4-5 stones of luggage? Hahaha! Sorry mates! But it worked out smoothly and I got settled within an hour. I stumbled upon a few people in the hallway, and got all the information I needed. In the afternoon my flatmates and I went over to the other flat, and spent a lot of time getting to know each other, before going to some meeting at another place. After that, we got back, and basically started drinking ^^

I’m not going to go on and on about the evening (mainly because I can’t remember all of it), but we had so much fun!
So much fun actually, that I wounded up waking up on my bathroom floor in the middle of the night 😀
Stupid Norwegian alcohol habits.

The really spacious bathroom

The really spacious bathroom

It’s crowded with one person, for Christs sake!
I got some sleep, but not too much… woke up at 5:30 AM, and when my flatmate got out at 6:30, I got up and went to the kitchen with her. Had a slow, nice day, with little to do. O C and I decided to have dinner together, but when we got to the store, we weren’t really sure what we wanted: something light and microwave-ably, or something a bit more… filling. So, while standing there, contemplating loudly in Norwegian some one behind us goes “You’re from Norway?!!” in Norwegian. Now, this bit here is where we did something weird. We turned around and replied that “Yes, we are”, but we didn’t stop at that. We continued on with “want to have dinner with us?”. Come on, who replies “Yes we are, want to have dinner with us?” when asked if we are from Norway? But the girl, Karina, said she’d love to, so we bought some minced meat, pasta and Dolmio Bolognese original, and went back to my college to eat. Now, see… this is where we did the second weird thing:
inviting someone to dinner isn’t half as weird as inviting them to dinner, buying groceries, and NOT having pots and pans, plates and glass, forks or knives, or anything to prepare, make and eat the dinner WITH. Thankfully, my flatmates are alright people, so we got to borrow pots and pans from David, knives and forks from Matthew, glasses, plates and spice from Kat, and even some sort of spatula-like-thingy(I have no idea what it’s actually called in English) from Nikki. Oh, and yeah, since Nikki is chinese, she hadn’t really been socializing much with us, seeing as she is very unsure of her English(which she has no need to -___-), but when I brought O C over, they could speak in Chinese together, and so she got to talk to us. She’s really nice! 😀 And she joined us for dinner =^__^= Wish I had pictures of it, but the whole thing was absurdly, comfortably nice. I really enjoyed having dinner with them!

Yeah, well… I guess this is about it for now.
I hope things continue like this for at least a while more.
I’m still dead scared that I’m going to wound up alone like before.
I’m constantly worried they’ll bring up a subject where they don’t like my opinion or answer, and they’ll avoid me from then on. I mean, I can’t even start to stress how much I appreciate these people, or how much I want them to be, and stay, my friends. I have so high hopes, I’m wishing so strongly we’ll continue like this. But I know that no matter how we develop, and how things change between us later on, I’ve been extremely lucky to get to know them, and truly blessed with the company for at least the time being. I’m scared shitless they’ll think poorly of me and stop talking to me. And my stupid, insecure self is so sure it’ll happen. I just need to watch what I say. I hope I haven’t said anything that’s a bit… too much… just yet. I can’t help it, but I’m obviously a poor friend in the long run. I’m too much for a lot of people, I get that. I suppose I just don’t really know where to stop. I’m being me, no doubt of that, but I should start easing down on it. I guess I just want people to like me so much, I need to talk about all the sides of me(all the time, apparently), to show them that I’ve got so many sides of me, and that even though they don’t like *this or that*, there are other things they might or could appreciate. Oh well, enough emo-sappy-desperat-anxious rambling. I am all fine and well, and the others seem really cool.

I wish things that are good could stay forever♥
– L A =^__^=