Archive for January, 2014


Sunday, January 26th, 2014

sorry i haven’t posted in ages. i’m not feeling able. in fact i’m not feeling up to really anything. i’m scared to go outside, i’m scared to see people, scared of people. i’ve had panic attacks and i don’t feel safe. i promise i will try to get back to this when i’m feeling better.

until then.

Week three

Monday, January 20th, 2014

Yes, week three of the diet and I was so so so ready to give up on this. But then motivational!Tom got angry and I got scared. (and kinda horny too, because isn’t that beard hot, think about it scratching your inner thigh i mean what)

Don’t worry Tom, I’m not giving up. I daren’t. D:

(thanks for the original edit to something-gingerhamtard on tumblr, i’m only using this image to motivate myself, your edit is super <3 )

Going nowhere

Tuesday, January 14th, 2014

Look, I know talking to a therapist is supposed to be … well, therapeutic, but I really honestly feel like I’m getting absolutely no progress of any sort with mine. Like zero, zilch, nada. I don’t even know what I’m expecting, really, because it’s like I go there, they go what’s up and I go nothing much, I feel like shite or I feel ok. And then it’s just pointless repetition of everything I’ve already said in there. I’m getting frustrated beyond belief. You’re not gonna find anything new to this thing, you really aren’t. I know exactly what event in my life has triggered this god-awful downward spiral and it’s not gonna change. It’s just not. I’m thinking about just quitting the whole thing, what the fuck, there’s probably a bunch of people who need help much more than I do. Why am I taking up their precious time, because there appears to be nothing new developing.

I’m just tired as fuck of sitting there for an hour trying to convince everyone that I don’t feel ok. That maybe something needs to be done. Or does it? I don’t even know anymore.

I’m just…


Fuck it.

Shit on Sundays – get to know me

Sunday, January 12th, 2014

1. What is you middle name? Oddly enough, I go by my middle name, and that would be Marika.
2. How old are you? 35.
3. What is your birthday? October 18th.
4. What is your zodiac sign? Libra.
5. What is your favorite color? Black and pink.
6. What’s your lucky number? 8 I suppose.
7. Do you have any pets? Two stinkpot turtles and an old and weary hamster, bless him.
8. Where are you from? Finland.
9. How tall are you? 175 centimeters. That’s 5’9″-ish for those of you living in the stone age.
10. What shoe size are you? 41.
11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? Like, maybe ten?
12. What was your last dream about? I was eating a hamburger and realised that I shouldn’t and I was very distressed about the whole thing.
13. What talents do you have? I am very good at driving. Also I’m a decent singer. And I’d like to think I write well.
14. Are you psychic in any way? No. I don’t believe in that shit, to be honest.
15. Favorite song? Heartland by U2.
16. Favorite movie? Spy Game.
17. Who would be your ideal partner? Basically, my husband. But if I get to pick another, then this fucker right here

leave the planet you perfect fucker

18. Do you want children? I wouldn’t mind having one. I don’t like, want, them.
19. Do you want a church wedding? No. I got married in the magistrate. Religion has no place in my marriage.
20. Are you religious? Not the least bit.
21. Have you ever been to the hospital? Yes a few times.
22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? Oddly enough, no.
23. Have you ever met any celebrities? Apart from some Finnish small scale celebrities, no.
24. Baths or showers? Showers.
25. What color socks are you wearing? None at the moment.
26. Have you ever been famous? Sort of. I once ran for the local council for the shit and giggles and got a seat on some committee. Tells a lot about the integrity of politics in here.
27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? That’s something I don’t actively seek, but if it happens, it happens.
28. What type of music do you like? Pop, mainly. I don’t get people who diss pop just because it’s “disposable” and “not classic” and all that. What’s wrong with being easy to consume? It’s music, it doesn’t need to be all sweat and tears and taking oneself so seriously it would be funny if it didn’t make you cringe. Fuck you, I like pop.
29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? Yes I have. There were reports of whale sightings the next day. Haahaa.
30. How many pillows do you sleep with? One. Who the fuck sleeps with many? Your head will be all cocked and your neck wrung. Shit, people, what the fuck is wrong with you?
31. What position do you usually sleep in? It varies quite a lot.
32. How big is your house? It’s not big at all, like 90-ish sq.meter.
33. What do you typically have for breakfast? Usually oatmeal and a huge mug of tea.
34. Have you ever fired a gun? Yes, many times. I own a shotgun and I love shooting it.
35. Have you ever tried archery? Yes, but on a very basic level. Not with all that fancy shit on the bow.
36. Favorite clean word? It’s a Finnish exclamation, turkanen.
37. Favorite swear word? Fuck, hands down.
38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? Like three days?
39. Do you have any scars? Yes. Actually quite a lot. I’ve always been a Clumsy Person.
40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? Not that I know of. Must’ve been really secret.
41. Are you a good liar? I can pull off a lie.
42. Are you a good judge of character? No.
43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? I can do many. I can do a few Finnish ones, a few English ones and like two Swedish ones.
44. Do you have a strong accent? In Finnish, yes. In English it’s a mixture.
45. What is your favorite accent? Scottish or Australian. And Yorksha! British isn’t an accent, it’s what it’s supposed to sound like when you pronounce it properly.
46. What is your personality type? Crazy.
47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? Probably my jeans.
48. Can you curl your tongue? Yes. I’m quite good with my tongue hahahaha.
49. Are you an innie or an outie? Is this about belly buttons? Innie. Outies freak me out. D:
50. Left or right handed? Right. Left hand is good for basically nothing.
51. Are you scared of spiders? Yes.
52. Favorite food? Reading the next question I realised this is about Finnish food. Well, mashed potatoes and meatballs then.
53. Favorite foreign food? Oh wow. Indian. Madras or tikka or korma. Anything goes basically.
54. Are you a clean or messy person? More messy than clean.
55. Most used phrased? No mitä vittua nyt taas. Translated: what the fuck again now.
56. Most used word? Like.
57. How long does it take for you to get ready? Depends. Anywhere from two minutes to thirty.
58. Do you have much of an ego? I’d love to say no, but I think I do.
59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? Suck.
60. Do you talk to yourself? Yes.
61. Do you sing to yourself? Yes.
62. Are you a good singer? Relatively. I can keep a tune, but my voice isn’t anything special.
63. Biggest Fear? Dying in a fire.
64. Are you a gossip? Somewhat.
65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? Oh wow. I don’t know.
66. Do you like long or short hair? Long on me, short on men.
67. Can you name all 50 states of America? Look I can probably get to like 48, I always end up missing like two.
68. Favorite school subject? English.
69. Extrovert or Introvert? Introvert.
70. Have you ever been scuba diving? No, but would love to.
71. What makes you nervous? The thought that I should behave like an adult.
72. Are you scared of the dark? Not so much.
73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? Yes, it’s a bad habit.
74. Are you ticklish? Yes.
75. Have you ever started a rumor? Nope.
76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? Uh, sort of. I was a team leader in a school project.
77. Have you ever drank underage? Yes. I’d wager that 99% of Finns have.
78. Have you ever done drugs? Nope.
79. Who was your first real crush? Oh shit. Uhh. Bono? No wait, Jayce from Jayce & The Wheeled Warriors.
80. How many piercings do you have? Five. Three on ears, one lower lip and septum.
81. Can you roll your Rs? Yes. We Finns mostly can.
82. How fast can you type? Pretty fast. Not sure about the correctness tho.
83. How fast can you run? Fast enough to outrun a zombie.
84. What color is your hair? Dark brown with blue part on top.
85. What color is your eyes? Muddy grey.
86. What are you allergic to? All things furry. 🙁
87. Do you keep a journal? I try to. I used to. But not anymore. I should, because of my mental illness, but I can’t be arsed really.
88. What do your parents do? Dadster is working on a ship and momster is a pensioner.
89. Do you like your age? Yes, I see nothing wrong with it.
90. What makes you angry? Basically everything. I’m a cranky person. And I get riled up over the stupidest things. I don’t have peeves, I have psychotic fucking rages.
91. Do you like your own name? Yes.
92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? I have, yes. And I’m not gonna tell any of them here, because you’d steal them, you wankers.
93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? I don’t care for either more than the other.
94. What are you strengths? I can be a badass bitch if need be.
95. What are your weaknesses? I cry when I get annoyed enough.
96. How did you get your name? My parents made it up.
97. Were your ancestors royalty? Not royalty no, mercenaries yes.
99. Color of your bedspread? White at the moment.
100. Color of your room? I have several rooms.

Of insecurities

Friday, January 10th, 2014

I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately, mainly because I have an appointment coming up next week with the mental illness people. I guess I should try to find out what the triggers for my mood swings are, but I really have no clue. All I’ve gathered is that when I’m manic I want to write (and i do write) and I listen to mostly trance and ambient. I have no idea why, but it just is a really good combination: mania, writing and trance music.

But I digress.

What I would like to really get a hold of are my insecurities and fears and how they affect me and my mind. Because how is it possible that during a mania streak I have zero insecurities, I’m lovely and witty and basically an all-around goddess of fucking everything. While depressed, it’s no surprise that I feel like the feed that bottom feeders feed on. That -as I said- is no surprise, but what is interesting, are the insecurites I have when I’m on my “normal” mood. Or what I feel like is sort of the default me.

Of course there is your basic variety of physical insecurities like being overweight and not particularly attractive and I could do with bigger boobs, but then there are the not-so-visible ones. Like the one where I’m used to being the one filling awkward silences between two people who are trying to get it on. See, I’ve always been the third wheel, the chaperone. No one (before my husband but that’s another story) has ever shown genuine interest in me. It’s so painfully accurate what I read once on some light-hearted tumblr text post: My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and they’re like “Hey your friend is sexy is she single?”.

I’m not -at least not totally- complaining about being the comic relief, I’m complaining about the assumption that I’ll be there to fill the void. Somehow my friends got used to it and then depended on it. I know it’s partly my fault, like I haven’t said no to that. And now, since most of my friends are happily in a relationship, I find that I’m not needed anymore. Which really is what it sounds like: I’m not useful anymore and therefore I’m not good company for a night out. Which results in me being alone on the weekends.

I would like to change my … for a lack of a better word: role in my pathetically small circle of friends, but I don’t think I can. Because if I’m not the class clown, what am I? Do I even know myself what I would like to be?

I’m afraid tho that the truth about me being alone on the weekends is something completely different. Something that I’m terribly afraid of. It’s that everyone else grew up. That I am the only one left of my friends who still likes to get shit-faced and hit the dancefloor to make a complete fool of myself and be drenched in my own sweat. I don’t know if it’s some stupid survival instinct that makes me cling to that feeling of being young and carefree, or if it indeed is really what I am (i’m leaning towards the latter, honestly, that i just am like this), but it terrifies me something incredible when I think about it.

Maybe I’m not at their level. Maybe I’m an embarrassement to them.

And that, children, is my biggest insecurity: because I don’t know who I’m supposed to be, I feel inferior to everyone else in my life.