Not quite yet feeling 22

Publicerad 2017-04-04 00:01:00 i Livet,

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It's become a bit of a tradition this, writing down how I'm feeling and who I am the day before I turn another year older. And this year I'm 21, turning 22. But before I turn 22, I would like to spend some time remembering my life as 21. A year ago I would've never pictured myself where I am today. 21 was the year I got to know myself, and the year I got to figure out just how strong I can be when needed. 
 
21 was also the year I moved into my own home, the year I got the highest mark of my entire year and the year I figured out just how fantastic life can be when you're not busy constantly worrying about someone else. I've never felt happier, stronger, more appreciated and more loved than I have over the past half year as single - from friends, family, one night stands and myself. 
 
21 was the year I cleared my life of people unworthy of my time, and the year I came to realise just how amazing life gets when you're surrounded with people you care for not because you should but because you actively want to. I've learned so many life lessons throughout this year, and am walking away from being 21 more prepared for life than I ever have been before.
 
21 was also the year when I ran for office and got elected President. And 22 will be the year I get to graduate from University and the year I get to spend as President. The year I get to spend my days making real change. 21 has been memorable, for both good and bad reasons. But now I'm excited to see what 22 has to bring. And I'm quite certain that however memorable 21 has been, 22 will be even better.
 
 
 

Weekend in Yorkshire

Publicerad 2017-03-26 23:59:10 i Livet,

 
 
 
 
This blog really has become rather un-cared for recently. And like any forgotten or poorly maintained relationship, what has been lost is rarely recovered. So in the spirit of that, I won't go to any lengths to tell you about what's gone one with me. You've either kept up to date with my instagram, or not cared at all.
 
Nonetheless, last week I went up to Yorkshire to visit Oscar. It was quite soon after the elections, and my head was still spinning from everything that happened and was happening and was really in need of a break. In fact, it wasn't until I was on my way back home again that I realised just how much lighter my chest was, having spent a few days away up the misty moors and with a dear friend just an arm's reach away.
 
Anyways, being back home again I finally feel like I'm on top of, rather than just chasing after, life. Dissertations are on their way, the sun is finally back and my days are filled but not jampacked with exciting things. Third year is happening, my birthday is coming up and I'm more and more just allowing myself to fall in love with life. Relax, take a deep breath and enjoy what's going on. 
 
 

Mornings in

Publicerad 2016-11-27 09:54:00 i Livet,

 
 
Home
 
 
The last week I've been feeling rather trodden down, tired and anxious. I suppose it's a response to a multitude of factors; having a breakdown not too long ago, the sun appearing less and less, term nearing its end etc etc. Either way, I just feel less equipped to deal with the monstrous amount of tasks that I took on at the start of the year, like the work load is finally getting to me. 
 
And I've tried to deal with it by getting by doing just what's necessary, nothing more nothing less. So I've had longer mornings in eating my porridge and putting on makeup, put less pressure on myself to create and produce, and more consciously prioritised evenings in. Just to calm down, to center. Prepare myself for the last stretch before christmas break. Take a breath. Then another. And then get on with everything again.
 
 

About those small moments

Publicerad 2016-11-25 17:47:00 i Livet,

 
 
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Life is about so much more than the moments and feelings I've been telling you about on here recently. I've mostly just focused on hopelessness and heartbreak, even though there's been so much more to my days than that. There's been so many moments of friends, happiness, dance, drinks and studies. And I thought I'd tell you about some of them, so here's a few.
 
◊ Spending day after day in that study pod up in LPS writing away at essays and drinking more coffee than any human should be able to take. Helping each other out with statistics and keeping away the stress of deadlines with funny videos and frozen songs. 
 
◊ When we were at that club in London and I pulled on the hottest guy in there. We were just about to leave as I saw him walking towards me and I stepped in front of him and said 'boy is your name homework because I'm not doing you right now and I should be'. And I don't know how, or why, but it worked.
 
◊ Going to the midnight screening of fantastic beasts with Laura. And then going to another showing of it a couple of days later. 
 
◊ When I got to present the research I did over the summer with the head of department, and tell all my peers and lecturers about our findings. I was so nervous about it, until I realised that if I screwed up no one would know because no one in that room knew more about it than I did. So we presented it. It went so well, and it was just so much fun. 
 
 
 
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◊ And once that presentation was done I went over to chat to the head of department and thank her for the opportunity, and she gave me a hug and told me that she was so proud of me. I was beaming of joy from that for hours. 
 
◊ When Sam and I finally managed the waltz routine and we went through it over and over again, swirling through Mandela hall like it was the easiest thing in the world.

◊ Being called 'Mother Period' by a grateful student that just found out that we give out free sanitary towels and tampons and moon cups. 

◊ Sitting in the staircase with a group of friends I'd just met eating pizza, waiting for another friend to finish whomever she was in her bedroom with so we could come in to grab our stuff and leave. Because, you see, it was three in the morning and three hours later I was scheduled to work, so I really should have been going by then. But at that point, that didn't matter. All that mattered was the people, the staircase and the pizza. 

◊ When he called me drunk in the middle of the night and told me he misses me and I told him I miss him too. It's nice to mean something like that to someone again. 

 

You're strong, but you're not invincible

Publicerad 2016-11-18 17:37:22 i Livet,

And then, suddenly, it hits you. Everything just gets too much, and you have to grab a hold of the counter to stay steady. Make a conscious effort to stay standing.
 
Life is ups and downs, and over the past few months you've travelled far. From homeless and hopeless and with a galaxy of despair roaring in your chest to a functionable human being, with routines and prepared lunches and a big pack of schampoo standing in the shower. Compared to where you were in august, you're doing well.
 
But then it hits you, and all the progress you've made just washes away. You don't know what the reason is. Maybe his message. Maybe that you haven't slept enough. Maybe that you haven't eaten for a while. Maybe that you haven't talked to your dad for months. It doesn't really matter. After feeling so well for so long falling down again was long overdue. 
 
Leaning against the counter whilst the pasta is cooking, you cry and you cry and you cry. Like you haven't cried for months. And for a moment, you fear that that bottomless pit of despair that encompassed your entire being during the summer months has opened up again. Thank god it hasn't. This pit isn't bottomless. You can still stay standing. 
 
You make your dinner, go up to your room. Put on a film, call Oscar and then when Evelyn gets home you make tea and talk whilst she bakes cookies. This will happen. It will hit you, out of nowhere it will come back and hit you like a sledge hammer. You can't prevent that. All you can do is just to make sure that you stay standing.
 
Two things are certain in life. You are going to make progress, and you are going to fall down. Remember, you're strong, but you're not invincible.
 
 
 

Blindspots

Publicerad 2016-11-02 16:15:11 i Livet,

Something I've been thinking alot about lately is how easily we let ourselves be fooled. Specifically, how easily we allow ourselves to just see the good sides of someone. How blind we allow ourselves to be for the sake of appreciation; how many faults we can forgive for the sake of perfection. It's like speeding past warning signs, thinking that if we don't stop and think about the risks then the danger isn't real. Except it is. It still and always is.
 
The biggest part of growing up for me has been around breaking down this fallability, my insistant inclination to just want to like someone. To excuse everything that doesn't fit into my idealised view of them; to chose not to see anything that isn't good. And it's kind of unfair. Not just to me, but to them. To place them on this piedestal, have them represent everything good about humanity, when they're in reality just these flawed lonely humans like everyone else.
 
But it's also unfair to me. Because when you decide to let someone close without taking into account their lesser sides, when you decide to trust someone without seeing all of them, you make yourself vulnerable to people undeserving of it. See people as complex beings, sure, and realise that every person is a pryzm of goods and bads, but also, allow yourself a standard of decency. Don't let just anyone close. Don't put them on any piedestal they don't deserve.
 
We love being fooled. We love only listening to the voices of appreciation when we meet someone new. When they've just fallen into your world and everything and everyone seems to focus around how brilliant this new person is. We love that. And we love listening to and believing it. Perfection is such an intriguing illusion, and all we want to do is fall for it.
 
 
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Long time no selfie

Publicerad 2016-10-22 17:59:00 i Livet,

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Hi all, just thought I'd pop in and tell you all that I'm still alive in case you were wondering. I haven't really been feeling social media lately. I've just wanted to get out there and live life, dance away nights and work away days and laugh and cry. Get to know myself as just me. I might get back to telling you about it soon, but I can't promise anything. 
 
 
 

Greener pastures

Publicerad 2016-10-03 10:56:50 i Livet,

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I miss you
Or, I miss you loving me
and I miss meaning something to you
 
But it's ok
It's just life, it moves on
and all I can do is make sure I move on with it
 
 
 
 

This moment

Publicerad 2016-10-01 13:50:00 i Livet,

Right now, right in this moment, I feel good. So content. So happy. So good. It's saturday morning(ok it's past 11 but still) and I'm sitting in my bed watching Netflix. It's raining, and the rain drops are falling on my slanted ceiling and window. It's such a soothing sound. I'm hungover, and have decided not to leave my bed for a while. I've ordered breakfast via deliveroo (pancakes and bacon mmm) and made myself a cup of tea. It's just what I needed. 
 
Last night I was out with the politics gang. We danced and drank and had so much fun. Danced on the streets and in bars and I think at one point I was even dancing on a table. I had fun. So much fun. And I felt so alive. So happy. And today, right now, right at this moment, I feel so good about myself. Just so at peace, in a way I haven't felt for a while. I really like my life. I really like what I spend my days and evenings and mornings doing. I really like the people I surround myself with. And I really like me. And it's such a nice feeling. To, in this moment, in this life, in this self, just feel good. 
 
 
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Cuts and bruises

Publicerad 2016-09-26 18:06:00 i Livet,

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I cut my hand as I was doing the washing up a couple of weeks ago. I was washing a wineglass left from the night before, busy thinking about something else. Maybe exes. Maybe other stuff. Can't actually remember. Anyways, I was thinking about something rather unpleasant and feeling angry and stressed and then all of a sudden the glass just broke. I felt a stinging sensation and looked down. Saw the broken glass, and the cut in my hand. 
 
I put the glass to the side and then stood a few seconds and did nothing but stare at my hand. Saw the wound go from chocked and still to bloody and red. Felt a surge of adrenaline. Started shaking a bit. And didn't know what to do. So I continued doing the washing up. It took me a minute or two to calm down and get back into my senses. Realised that doing the washing up whilst you're bleeding isn't really a good idea. And by then I was bleeding quite a lot. So I stopped doing the washing up. Fetched some towels. Sat down. 
 
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It was just such a shock. I was so caught up in other thoughts, busy with my life, that I didn't even think that I might hurt myself doing what I was doing. That maybe you should hold certain things a bit more delicately, and be more aware of how they might hurt when they break. But I didn't. I just felt it breaking. Felt my hands slip. Felt the pain burn. I've later come to think about how poetic it was. How things can break when you don't think too much about what and how you're holding it. How it ends up hurting you without you even noticing it was breaking in the first place. And once it's broken, you have no other option but just to deal with the pain and wait for it to heal. Trust yourself that it's not going to bleed forever.
 
It's ok now though, I've had enough plasters on it to last a whole company and made sure to keep it clean. And it's healing. I'm usually one of those people that get wounds and scars that stay forever. But for some reason this one is healing quite well. And I suppose clean cuts do heal, even though they bled a lot at first, and they come as a shock and they look awful. I just have to make sure to leave it be, to give it time to heal. It's hard, but it's worth it, because even though they hurt, they do, eventually, heal.
 

In a week I

Publicerad 2016-09-24 11:29:00 i Livet,

 
 
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First week of university is over, and I'm getting more and more settled into all the new ways. I'm enjoying pouring my heart and soul into new and exciting courses and people and events, whilst trying to make sure that I take care of myself and don't take on more than I can handle. I'm still on a slippery slope on my way back from everything that's gone on, and it's so easy to think I'm ok and forget that I'm really not entirely. Not yet, at least. But I'm not complaining, not at all. I'm so enjoying uni life, seeing and being with people that excite and engage me, and mostly just feeling good. Not just ok. But good.
 
This week's moment: After my workout yesterday I was walking through Brighton all dolled up on endorfins, and decided to take the route through the Pavillion gardens. The sun was setting, the air was crisp, the buskers were playing their music and the view was just... Well you can see it all above. It's fair to say I fell in love with my city all over again. 
 
 
 
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This week's quote: Last night I called Oscar at 0.30 in the morning. We don't talk that often, but when we do we don't just chat, but really talk. About what we're going through and how we can help each other and how fucking scary and unfair and amazing and brilliant life is. And I told him about everything that's gone on. How much shit I have to go through and deal with to be ok again. And he said; 'I'm so sorry about all this, Frida. On behalf of all men, I'm sorry.'. And when I told him that he doesn't have to be sorry, I mean, it's not his fault, he replied; 'It's not, but someone should be sorry.'.
 
This week's highpoint: I was asked as Women's Officer to come to the Role Models Project - uni students go to local schools to talk about issues related to growing up that schools don't teach you - on campus to facilitate a workshop on sexism and gendered stereotypes that we wish we'd known about when we were growing up. It just left me feeling so good about myself, leading a talk on a subject I know so well, and talking and discussing it with amazingly interesting and enganged people. I also got to wear my Women's Officer lanyard. God I love that lanyard.
 
 
 
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This week's food: Is probably yet to come. I'm going out with Phil and Laura on Sunday for a traditional Sunday Roast, right before Laura and I go to try out fencing. Just because why not.
 
This week's lowpoint: When I was standing outside coop crying because I couldn't find any pesto. Well, there was more to it, of course it was. But at that point the lack of pesto just felt like the end of the world. Until Ross looked me in the eye and said 'Frida, you're an independent woman. You don't need coop. We can go to Sainsbury's instead.'. And so we did. And then I went home and had pesto pasta. 
 
This week's music: I'm listening to a lot of music right now, to calm down or pump myself up or just to pass time, and this week's song is gonna have to be Fighter with Christina Aguilera. When it shuffled up on my playlist the other day it sent chills down my spine. Am gonna try to incorporate some more of that kind of aggressive and unforgiveable power in my life. 
  
 
 
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A weekend to share

Publicerad 2016-09-18 21:26:56 i Livet,

 
 
Weekend with mum
 
 
Weekend with mum
 
Weekend with mum
 
Weekend with mum
 
 
 
Mum came to visit me here in Brighton this weekend. I got to show her my room, and show her that I'm actually doing ok again. We went to London, walked around Brighton, ate oysters, drank tea, watched films, woke up early and had a lot of prosecco. We also spent a lot of time just talking. About all those things that hurt, and all the things that don't. Tried to figure out what's happened, what is, and what to do. What not to do. Troubles are so much easier to carry when shared. And I'm so glad I can share so much with her. Sorrows and heartbreaks and afternoon teas and weekends alike.
 
 
 

The Twelfth

Publicerad 2016-09-12 19:18:00 i Livet,

I thought today would hurt more than it does. I thought I would think about you more than I am. 
 
But then again, I also once thought we'd still be together today. 
 
I suppose I was wrong. 
 
And I suppose that's ok. 
 

Fairy lights

Publicerad 2016-09-10 08:34:17 i Livet,

Turns out it's a lot less easy to be poetic when writing about feeling ok. Over the past few weeks text after text of heartbreak has fallen out of me, demanded to be written, read, felt. Some of them I've let you read. Most of them are just for me. 
 
But then I moved into my room. Made my own bed. Put up my fairy lights and built some shelves and found a place for my guitar. And with every book I put up on my shelf the brokenness that I've been carrying for so long just broke away. One piece after the other. 
 
It's hard writing poetically about feeling ok. But to be honest, I'd rather feel ok than be poetic anyway. I've had enough of feeling thinking being shit. And spending every waken second trying to ignore it. 
 
I can sleep in until 8 now. I can sit still for hours and not fall apart. I can make myself dinner and eat it. All the things I've dreamt of have come true. I have my home, I have my friends, I have myself. I don't have you, but that's ok. I'm ok without you. 
 
The texts that used to stream out of me like a flood demanding to be released have stilled. The last notes on my phone aren't poetic or emotional, but shopping lists for B&Q for stuff needed for my room. All that brokenness that consumed my entire being is giving in, leaving some much longed for space for me. A less poetic, but oh so much happier, me. 
 
 

Home

Publicerad 2016-09-06 10:02:00 i Livet,

Today is my last day of being homeless. Tomorrow, I get to move into my own house. I get to have a bed on my own. After six hellish months of homelessness, hopelessness and heartbreak, I finally have my own home again. After six hellish months, I can finally make my own bed.

To be honest, I genuinely can't believe I managed to get through all of this. But I did. And here I am. Single. Strong. Sad. And longing home. Not for that home I thought I had with you. That home you took away from me. But a home which is mine. Just mine.

Over the past year I've felt like everything has been taken away from me. Over and over again, I hit rock bottom. And at times I couldn't see how I would be able to get through it. But I did. First, with your help. And then with everyone else's. And looking back I can't believe how I managed to but I did. I did it.

I've fallen so many times this year. But now, I stand on my own. I stand with my own. Everything that was taken I've claimed back. With the help of my friends and family and myself I've claimed it all back. And I claimed it all back for myself. So that this time no one will be able to take it away.

This home, this me, this life, this happiness, sadness, hopelessness and optimism, it's all me. It's all mine. And I can't wait to live it. I can't wait to go home. 
 

Awake at 4 am

Publicerad 2016-09-05 05:14:00 i Livet,

I am telling people that I'm starting to do ok again. Because I am. That brokenness you left with me is fading, slowly eroding. I'm up at normal times and eating normal amounts and breathing normally again. And sometimes, no actually quite often, I laugh.

But then again, I'm also sometimes not ok. I'm also sometimes still awake at 4am unable to sleep. Looking out at the summer night sky and listening to music and trying to not think about you. Even though all I want to do is think about you.

But just because I sometimes still can't sleep doesn't mean that I am not ok. Because I am ok. I'm dealing with it, and every day, every night, the dealing gets easier. I'm ok. But I'm also sometimes awake at 4am thinking about you.

Changes

Publicerad 2016-08-31 09:16:00 i Livet,

Two weeks ago I was here. Right here. Looking at the departures board and getting excited about going home. I had you, and I thought I always would. But I didn't feel like I had me. And I was going home to find me.

One week ago I was on the streets of Brighton. Running around in nothing but my pjs, howling like a wounded animal. I had gone home and found me. I'd then gone back and I found I no longer had you.

Today I'm back again at the airport, back exactly here one week two weeks later. And I look back at the last two weeks and think of what I had and what I didn't. How everything's changed.
 
Right now I don't know what have. And I don't know what I don't have. I just know that whatever I have is broken. And the only one who can fix it is me.

Heartbroken.

Publicerad 2016-08-27 08:17:00 i Livet,

Last night we were up brushing our teeth. Smiling, laughing, messing about. Your hair shone from the light of the bedside lamp, and your smile shone even brighter. Your hands on me and my hands on you. My eyes on you and your eyes on me. It was such a beautiful moment. Just us. Just you and me and toothpaste. 
 
And then I woke up. And I had 10 seconds of happiness and love lingering through my sleepy head before I realised. It was just a dream. That ever since Tuesday, we are nothing more than a beautiful dream. That there's no more us. It's just me. Me and my dreams. 

Om allt och inget och lite till

Publicerad 2016-07-12 00:03:39 i Livet,

Cornwall
 
Jag vet inte riktigt vad jag vill skriva här, men jag vet att jag vill skriva nåt. I flera veckor har det gnagt i mig, saknaden att få ur mig allt, eller åtminstonde en hel del, att få lufta tankarna och erkänna känslor och skriva ned allt allt allt. Men vad skriver en när det är så många tankar och känslor som finns där inne, när en inte vet vilka av dem som vill ut och vilka som helst stannar en stund till. Vilka tankar som bearbetas bäst på egen hand, och vilka som känns redo att dela med sig av.
 
Den senaste tiden har ju så många dagar gått, dagar som gått huller och buller och om varandra. Jag vill skriva om dagar som jag aldrig vill glömma, dagar av glädje och skratt och kärlek och vänskap. Men jag vill också skriva om dagar som jag önskar aldrig hade existerat, med det där djupa hålet i bröstet som öppnar upp och slukar allt. Jag vill skriva om resan mellan de två, om hur en dag går framåt bara för att dagen efter gå bakåt, hur uppgivande det är att efter en bra dag återigen finna sig själv hopkurad på sängen och knappt kunna andas. Jag vill skriva om hur det går ändå, hur de där dagarna som känns som att de går bakåt ändå går framåt, bara långsammare. 
 
För hur det än gick till så verkar det där djupa grundlösa allslukande hålet ha börjat lagas och jag har åter hittat tillbaka till mig. Jag blev långsamt tillbakalockad av morgonvarm hud mellan sänglakan, vänners skratt i sommarljuset, kyssar på stränder och doften av jordgubbar. Jag vill berätta för er, dela med mig, lasta av mig. Men som ni ser så är det en hel del att gå igenom, så det får bli en bit i taget. Och här är första biten.
 
Cornwall
 
Translation; I'm not entirely sure what I want to write about, now that I'm finally back here. There's been so much going on, so many days have passed with so many thoughts and emotions going through my head. I want to write about the days I've lived which I never want to forget, days of Sweden and Cornwall and summer and friends. But I also want to write about those days that I wish never existed in the first place, days with that dark hole in my chest which seems to devour everything and anything.
 
I want to write about the journey between the two, about how one day you seem ok and on your way back only to, the day after, return to fetal position and not really being able to breath and you ask yourself how are you supposed to get through this when all you do is going backwards. But then a few weeks pass and you realise that somehow, someway, you're actually moving forwards. Just some days, you're moving a bit slower.
 
Because it seems like I've finally found my way back to me, like the touch of warm skin between bed sheets and the sounds of friends' laughter and the sensation of kisses on a salty beach and the smell of summer warm strawberries slowly lead me back. I want to tell you about everything, all of it. But it's a bit much, so I think we'll take it one step at a time. And here's to our first step.