2015 in review // What I hope 2016 will bring

This year has been one of the best fucking years I've had. I mean it hasn't been 100% positive, but what's happiness without a few bumps on the way? But here's some of the things that's happened this year:

• I've met new people who have become close friends of mine (Marina, Ramsey, Dany, Samantha, Nikita, Louise, all of you lovelings <3)
• I've made stronger bonds with people 
• I've gained more confidence 
• I started school after 3 years of sickness
• I'm getting good grades and teachers are very happy to have me 
• I've been reading a lot more books 
• I got turned down by something that could change my life 
• My room got a make over 
• I've taken public transport on my own 
• I've been in The Rainbow at aRos - ANd WALKEd AROUNd WITHOUT dYING
• I've found a thirst for adventures and exploring myself and the world around me 
• I had my heart broken by a friend 
• I got my first tattoo 
• I spent my birthday with a lot of people I love 
• I've only had two panic attacks since October 2014 (!!!!!!!!!)
• I've "cleaned out" people from my life who only brought negativity
• I went on holiday and didn't have to have a "break" day
• I've given many new plants a forever home
• August 2015 marks one year of having Lui 
• I've fully come out as bisexual
• My levels of fucks given about most things have dropped so much

And so many other things has happened during this year!!! It's been a really good year. I haven't been this happy for as long as I remember. I've moved so much personally and mentally, I feel like a new person. My mental illness doesn't control my life any more, it's still a part of my life, but I'm in control. Just ugh, I could cry with how happy I am!!!

//////

2016 is promising. I've stopped believing in New Years resolutions because I can never fulfill them, but here's some things I hope will happen/I hope I will make happen, in the new year!

• Get another tattoo
• Experiment with my hair
• Travel a bit
• Complete my first year in school and pass all my exams (bonus: hopefully will good grades)
• Become more body positive
• Continue to do my best to support my friends and be better at reminding them that I love them and their qualities
• Get better at eating healthier and plan lunches and meals better
• Appreciate everyone around me, remind them of my appreciation for them and what they do for me
• Sing more
• Read more
• Create more
• Get more plants c:
• Have fun and be happy

What's your hopes for the new year? Stay safe, drink responsibly, have safe sex and kiss some gorgeous people! Oh, and eat loads of food <3

I was born with antennas...

..... on top of my head. No one noticed, because only I can see them. As a young child, I never realised they were there. I was a bit sensitive, sure, but it never stopped me from making friends and going on adventures.

I grew older, my antennas grew with me. I felt things I didn't understand, I didn't know how to handle. I could suddenly feel angry, sad or extremely energetic. This was uncommon for me, I was very aware of my own feelings, of myself in general. But I never asked questions. I accepted it and went on with my days.

I would start feeling tense sometimes. Around certain people, I felt like I had to be on the tippiest of my toes. I felt overly aware of what was going on around me, even though I never understood. I knew my father's anger, I knew my mother's sadness. I felt them as my own.

I was a pre-teen when I realised what was going on. My grandfather had just died and that's what I saw how strange my antennas were. I realised I took on everyone else's feelings. My mother's frustration turned into my frustration, my grandmother's grief became mine too. I could sense everything.

The older I got, the worse it got. Now it wasn't just family or friends, but that person next to me on the train, I could sense something was up with them. I wasn't dealing with my grandfather's death very well, so having to feel everyone else's feelings on top of mine was sometimes too much.

I used to cut myself and drink alcohol to make it go away. Not the proper way of dealing with feelings, but I was confused and desperate. It dulled my own pain and the not so my own pain.

But my antennas aren't all bad. They taught me important things too. My sense of situation is amazing, I know when to keep in the background and when to ask questions. I know how to handle people in whatever mood they are, if I need to be direct or build up the conversation slowly. I take extra care of people and understand them better.

Sometimes it's still overwhelming. But sometimes it's nice enough, I like this little "secret" of mine.

To take, or not to take? My daily battle with pills

Picture from (x)

I take a few different pills a day. I take vitamins, birth control, allergy pills (only when I have mosquito bites though) and then my enemy. My anti depressant. Or mood pill as I like to call it. It has done absolute wonders for me, but every day is a struggle. Every day is a battle between my logical mind and my "But-I-don't-want-to-be-different" mind. Which is somewhat stupid.

Why is it stupid? Well, because they have done wonders for me. I have never in my life had such a stable mood until I started, ever. My panic attacks quickly reduced from multiple a day to maybe 2 in the past 6 months. They have done nothing but help me. Yet still I go through times where I feel like I'm a horrible person for taking them.

I feel dependant. I feel strapped down. I feel like a bad person for needing these pills to feel stable. And I know deep down that it is okay, that they're helping me, that it's not permanent. But I keep blaming myself and putting myself down for having reached a point where I cannot go a day without them. I've tried, and it never ended up pretty.

Without them I'm an anxious mess. My mood goes down, my mind dives into a deep black hole. So there's only more reasons to take them. But the little demon in my head keeps trying to make me not take them. And sometimes, my demon wins.

But those victories aren't victories at all. Because I know I won't make any progress. I'm taking a step back, and it needs to stop.

Because there is absolutely nothing wrong with needing medication to get through the days. There is nothing wrong with needing medication to function. Absolutely nothing. Bodies are different, minds are different. I need to tell myself this more often. It is absolutely fucking fine. It helps me. It doesn't want to destroy me. It helps me. I deserve this help, I deserve to feel good.


                                                     

Waiting

It's been 19 days since I was diagnosed and told that I should try medication. But I still haven't heard from them yet. Every morning I wake up, anxious, to the thought of getting a letter saying I have an appointment with a nurse who will handle the medication. But every day I'm disappointed. Maybe it's my fault, for putting up expectations. Especially knowing the Danish mental health care system. I was denied proper help for 6-7 years because "I wasn't sick enough" and now I'm looked down at because I'm doing really poorly.

Last week I was told I'm going to have weekly talks with a person I've never met. I don't know what about, I don't know who it is, but I know it'll be every Thursday afternoon. Again I'm waiting for a letter. And nothing has come yet.

A week and a half ago, my boyfriend Sean, was at an interview in Southern England for a replacement job. He got it. He only applied for it as a back up really, since the job isn't the most interesting or challenging. And to make it worse, he starts earlier than we expected, which risks our summer holiday and will make everything a lot more complicated. He got an interview for a job he would rather want, but he'll first get an answer in 2 weeks. So more waiting for answers.

I also waited 2 weeks for the new episode of Game of Thrones. I first on the day I normally watch it realised it wasn't aired because of memorial weekend. (And now I watched it and I'm angry and things are not alright, how dare you people, how dare you)

I hate not knowing. I hate it. I was told it's the aftermath of not having a lot of security or predicable things in my childhood. I think I'm just also one of those people. I get extremely uncomfortable if I don't know for sure. I get really upset, restless, moody, even more tired than normal.

Waiting is a part of life. I've learnt more about having patience and waiting since being with Sean because 90% of our relationship is waiting to see each other. I've also learnt from being in the mental health system since I was 13. But fuck it's a bitch most of the time.

I am not the labels that are put on me

CREDIT

Please note this is a very personal post, I'm opening up because I think it's important to be open about this kind of thing and I know that it's not only me who sometimes believe I'm the labels people put on me. And I am not sharing my diagnosis and treatment to seek pity. 

Tuesday 13-05-2014, 22:02

Tomorrow (Wednesday the 14th) is going to be a bit of a nerve wrecking day for me. I'm getting a possible diagnosis. For the past 2 weeks I've done intense sessions with a therapist at a psychiatric ward with the goal to get a possible diagnosis and treatment. She did hint heavily that she sees major depressive and anxious traits, with minor borderline and OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). I believe there was something else too but I honestly don't remember. It's scary. I see why she can see that in me but it's been really hard thinking of having put more labels on me. I know I am not the labels. I know they don't define the entirety called "Malle", my whole person. But for years I've been labelled as fat, disgusting, unintelligent, not good enough, a waste of life. And I believed them, I still believe them some days. But it's also comforting to have something that explains my thought process, my behaviour.

But I also think I shouldn't be so scared. I think it's an irrational fear. I am not fat. I have fat. A lot of it. I'm not unintelligent, I mean I did pretty well in school and I'm a very opinionated person and educated on certain things, I taught myself the basics of a language when I was younger because I liked the sound of it. I am good enough because hey, I'm not a total bad person. But these labels we get stuck on based on ignorant and most often short impression of us, can linger for way too long.

I just need to believe it'll be fine no matter what. I don't feel okay, and it's okay. It won't be perfect in a month or two, but I think I realised that a while ago. I am not the labels you put on me. I am not defined by them only. I am a universe, a complex and rather odd little universe. But we all are.

Wednesday 14-05-2014, 12:57

It was so much irrational fear. I came back maybe 40 minutes ago. It's a lot to chew on. Especially because I didn't sleep well last night, my entire body is in shut down mode. But I got a diagnosis and I got a treatment plan. I have a personality disorder which triggered other things. Anxiety - basically a bunch of types of anxieties to make it more lovely and complicated - and chronic depression. I'm going to probably get medication for the anxiety. I'm saying probably because I need to have my blood pressure measured and blood tests done so they can be sure it won't harm me to take whatever pills they'll give me. And I'll have individual sessions until they feel I'm ready for group sessions.

I'm scared. I'm actually terrified. But I know it's my anxiety that's freaked out because I don't like changes. And it's idiotic to be stupid of changes, because sometimes they're actually for the good. But it's how my brain works. But I will fight my fears. I deserve to feel better than I do right now.

It's a lot to take in. But I need to remember, I am not my diagnosis. I am not anxiety, chronic depression or a personality disorder. They are parts of me, but they do not define me. I am many other things too. Things I don't know about yet, haven't learnt about myself yet. And bits I want to improve, work on or even change completely. Things I'm proud of and are positive. I am many things. But I decide which of the things are true. Because it is about me. Malle.

Something about happiness

I'm not a very happy person. I was as a child but as I grew older, it's not natural to me to just feel happy. I can seem bubbly but it's more as a cover. I want to make you believe I'm fine, even if I'm not. And lately, I haven't been very happy.

Losing Buller is very hard. He was my best friend, he was my safety. He would cuddle up to me when I was really anxious and lick away the tears. He would be silly and goofy and make me laugh on days I thought I couldn't even smile. He was there when I was alone home and very scared. I don't do well alone, especially not in the evening. And my mum works evening shifts and my brother goes out and then it's just me.

On top of that, some personal stuff has gone a step back. I'm not sure what's going to happen now, maybe a lot of therapy to learn to control my anxiety, who the fuck even knows. And it scares the living shit out of me. I don't like not knowing what's going to happen.

Sean came on the 8th, though. After 8 shitty months apart. And he was my happiness for a bit. Of course I still got very upset sometimes and I had a panic attack or two. But he was there to comfort me. To motivate me. We went for walks to get some air and just get out, things I can't do myself or used to do with my dog. He made me laugh and remind me that I deserve to feel happy too.

And it made me think, a lot of people don't think they deserve to feel happy. To be happy. But you do. You deserve to do something that makes you happy. If it's seeing a person you're close to, watching a film that's special to you, making some kick ass mac and cheese (or any kind of delicious food you love) or simply just turn off all technology, light some candles and read a good book alone in your bed. You deserve that time to relax and feel a bit of happiness.

Sean unfortunately had to go back to England yesterday. As little as I wanted it to happen. I miss him terribly. I'm a bit scared, but it comforts me that this time we'll "only" be 1½ months apart before a long summer.

Happy Easter by the way! Hope you can spend it with someone you love. I'm going to my grandma's house tonight for delicious food, I'm a teeny bit excited for that.

How to help someone during a panic attack

This is for the people who has people near and dear to them that can suffer from panic/anxiety attacks.

What is a panic/anxiety attack? 

A panic/anxiety attack is an often sudden and overwhelming strike of fear. It can be triggered by many different things, depending on the person. It can be shown through rapid breathing, nausea, urge to faint and/or try and escape the situation, ticks, nervously fiddling with hands and a number of other things. But rapid breathing and the urge to faint or escape the situation are most common. If you want to read a more detailed article about panic attacks, Wikipedia  is a great site to check out.

How can I help?

Disclaimer: This might not work for everybody, I am just speaking out of personal experience and what I've heard from other people also suffering from anxiety and panic attacks.

- Try and take them to somewhere private. It can prevent the person from feeling humiliated afterwards if a lot of other people were present and it gives the person some space during and after the panic attack.
- If they have run away to escape the situation, try and follow them and ask if it's okay you stay with them.
- Make sure they sit down. In case they suddenly feel very sick or something, they'll be a bit more safe sitting down.
- If it's a person you have close, physical touch can be good. Hold their hand, hold around them, something. But only if you know they're okay with it. If you're unsure, try and ask. If they don't respond, simply don't touch them because it could make it worse.
- If they hyper ventilate, help them get back to a normal breathing rhythm. Breathe with them, slowly inhale and exhale, over exaggerate it so they can hear it clearly. If it doesn't help, tell them to slowly inhale and exhale. It's important to help them calm down, because hyperventilation could cause fainting.
- Reassure them that you're there. Keep telling them it's okay to be upset, it's okay, there's nothing wrong with panicking, you're there, you're not leaving, you'll stay until it's all over. If you can, look them in the eyes and keep reassuring them.
- When the person has calmed down enough, please don't go around and tell everyone. If the person wanted people to know what happened, they will say it themselves.

My experience with panic attacks.

I've probably been dealing with anxiety since I was about 14 years old, so it's been a part of my life for a while now. I remember my first panic attack. I had a bad day in school and I was trying to sleep and then my head got filled with bad thoughts and my breathing became funny and everything went black. It was a very scary thing to go through, but I never told any one because I didn't know what it was. I had milder attacks over the next 3 years, but as I started year 10 in school they got very bad and more frequent. I never had attacks around people, I always managed to run away before it happened.

Sean was one of the first people to see me panic. It was scary for both of us, I was humiliated and terrified, and he simply didn't know what to do. Only one other person has seen me have a direct panic attack. It was a friend from my højskole, I had a solo in a singing class and I suddenly just snapped and needed to escape.  Again, I was humiliated because there I was, already scared to be in a new place, on my own for the first time in a long time and trying to make friends.

Physical touch helps me a lot. If it's holding my hand or a hug. Sean has learnt to tell the signs of when I can panic and then what to do. I get ticks when I'm really anxious. I like.. Jerk my head to the side, I scratch my arms or thighs and sometimes look up at the ceiling or generally look away from people. Then Sean takes my hand very softly and calmly asks me to get onto the bed if I'm standing up or at my desk, simply because I can shake violently and potentially hurt myself. Then he hugs me and breathes with me and talks to me. When I calm down I like to listen to his heart and he will still reassure me he's there and I just need to breathe.

I still struggle with them a lot. I get them frequently and they get very painful physically and mentally. During the past half year I sometimes have multiple a day.

Panic attacks and relationships.

Please for the love of everything, let your partner know about these attacks if you suffer from them. Sean knew about them, but I never really talked about it because I was embarrassed and it got really weird and uncomfortable in the start. If you don't know what works for you when you panic, try and build a routine with your partner, but if you do know what works, tell them. If you need to be alone, let them know. If you need to be held close, let them know. It's very important they know about it.

I think that's what I had to say about all this. I hope this could be somewhat useful to someone out there.

Me, myself and anxiety

I remember being 6 and very afraid of what people would think of me. I think we all have thought this to ourselves. "Will they like me?", "Am I good enough?", "I hope I don't say something stupid to offend them". But the fear was overwhelming. I quickly realised if I was a person people liked, I wouldn't have to worry. Even if this person wasn't the real me, it would at least hold back the huge fear. Because it was constantly there, it never really went away.

It only got worse over the years. I was scared to trust people, to talk to people. Even the people I had known for years became strange and scary. Which compared to me as a young child, a very bubbly and social butterfly, was even more scary because I could look back and see that I once was at a point where people was a good thing.

But now it's one of my biggest fears. Even family birthdays take so much of my energy. I rehearse in my head 7 days before what can happen, what I should say if I'm asked different things, what I will do if I'm not in the best mood, how much or little I should smile, how I can escape if it gets too much, how I can hide the fact that people talking to me and the loud noises scare the living crap out of me even though I've known these people since I was born.

And it's hard to express that fear. Because nothing describes it well enough. It's like drowning and seeing the surface but not being able to reach it. It's like falling into a deep hole and never seeing the end. It's like screaming but without anyone hearing it. It's like being trapped but you have the key to get out, you just don't know how to use it.

I cannot do a lot of things. I cannot go pick up a pint of milk on my own, I can't walk my dog in different areas, I cannot pick up the phone or sometimes even write an email. Some days if people talk to me on Facebook I get so overwhelmed I just log off. Because I didn't plan it, I didn't see it coming. It was too unexpected. And it's horrible, because it's often people I'm dying to ask how are. But I push myself away because I don't want to burden them.

It's always been a matter of bothering people. Being in the way. I'm constantly aware of everything around me because I don't want to be in the way. And it's so draining. It's so fucking tiring because in reality, no one could give a shit about where I stand, they can just ask me to move if it did bother them. But I'm trying to think ahead. Just like I'm counting my cash 10 times before even standing in the queue and then counting further 10 times in case I got it wrong before. Adding it all up in my very messy head and being wrong would ruin my entire day.

And I'm constantly tired. Some days it even physically hurts. Because being so aware of everything, NEEDING to be aware of everything, is very demanding. I need to know things a couple of days in advance, because else I get panic attacks because I don't feel prepared. I get stressed easily, I cry a lot and my eyes are always red and my under eyes more blue than the sky. My arms get achy from the nervous picking I tend to do because it's the only thing that calms me down, picking and scratching my arm when it's all too much.

Some days are okay. Some days I just wake up feeling tired. A little confused too, but mostly tired. I don't even bother getting dressed, I just lay in my bed and stare. Embrace the peace in my head. But then I remember the dishwasher needs emptying, there's clothes in the washing room that's not folded - and it's not even mine - and my desk looks dirty and the frames look a bit too tilted to the left and what if someone calls me, should I answer it or should I do as I always do, turn it off and hide it because it's always a number I don't know and it makes me very uncomfortable.

I'm always uncomfortable. It's what anxiety does.

- I wrote this because lately it's hasn't been easy to control things. I don't like losing control and I don't like not being the one making decisions about my life. And it makes me sleep very poorly which triggers anxiety even more. I'm not writing things to make you feel bad for me. I don't care for being pitied. But if you feel the same, it'll be okay. Some days are worse than others, but you'll be okay. I was okay for a while, but suddenly things come up and the hell burns again. But it'll pass. Hang in there, hang in there with me. We can do this.