2013

I started this blog in July of 2013 as a means to reflect over things that happens and have happened in my life. I started out with the intention to write mainly for my own benefit, but it quickly became an obligation and I stopped writing for a while.

After reviewing and pondering the reasons as to why I write, I came back and now I only write when I want and/or need to.

This post will be a reflection on the past year (I know it's somewhat late, but I've felt like crap and things have happened, things I might or might not write about in the future). Don't be alarmed, I'll keep it short...ish.

Let's boogie.


2013 started off OK. I got several grades back from my history classes and I passed all of them with banners held high. I had hopes that I would manage to get to the 2/3 mark of my bachelor's degree done before Spring would turn into Summer and getting the highest grade possible on my projects really elevated my mood. Towards the end of January I also started an internship at the Salvation Army second-hand store. (Please wait with your comments until I'm done, 'kay? 'Kay.)
Let me just say that three things about this period in my life.

1. Don't shop at the Salvation Army stores. They treat people like crap and their size-ism is not only unchecked, it's disgustingly rampant.

2. Full time studies and 3/4 time work might be the vanilla bean chocolate cake for some, but believe me, it will not last. Not unless you have no need for sleep, food, or time to wind down.

3. You can meet brilliant people at the most unexpected places. The person who got assigned to show me the ropes turned out to be one of the funniest, kindest, smartest, and all-round amazing people I have ever met. We both left the store last year and ended up at the same place again. (That sentence turned out weird, but I don't know how change it. Any ideas?)

During the first weekend of March, my mind and body had finally had enough abuse and decided to shut down completely. I remember spending the better part of that Saturday on the floor, crying my eyes out. On the Monday, I went to the doctor's office and got assigned two weeks sick leave. At this point, I wasn't coherent, and I was shaking like I had just crawled naked out of a snow pile (I don't recommend this, so don't try running around naked in snow. Well, I was wearing a t-shirt and underwear, but my point still stands). I went to the store from the doctor's office and told the people there that I wouldn't be back for a while.

Two weeks turned into six weeks before I was strong enough to get myself and my messed up mind on my feet and out the door. I had had a lot of time to think during this time and I figured out that my distress, depression, and social phobia all stemmed from my puberty and the relentless bullying I had been subjected to. I also figured out that trying to prove my worth to others would no longer fly and I started to change things in my life.

Mid-May I was overly tired of being on edge and jumpy, so I asked my doctor if I would benefit from anti-depressants. May 11 I took my first dose of Sertraline and I haven't regretted it for a second. Now I'm on venlafaxine because the sertraline didn't work for me, but I'll get to that.

June began with a very relaxing trip to a spa, courtesy of my parents, who were celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary. I sorely needed that trip, because the employment agency were messing up my case, misplacing papers, and "forgetting" things all the time. Because someone recovering from stress really needs more stress piled on... *sarcasm*
Towards the end of June, Boy, me, and my dad-in-law went to Boy's family's beach house for Midsummer's Eve. If you haven't experienced a traditional Midsummer celebration you've missed one of the best holidays EVER. Sure, the sky was grey and it rained on and off that whole day, but the view over the fiord was breath taking, the food was delicious and I had a great time.
June also saw me joining my friend at a photo archiving company, and I'm still here. It's a good place to be and the people here is just what I need.

In July I worked up the courage to ask my doctor about sterilization. He was surprised at first, but quickly realized that I was serious. I got a call in August about seeing a gynecologist at the end of September. I started the sterilization process on September 20.

Here I would like to make a small comment about the whole sterilization thing. I have NEVER wanted children. I do NOT see children in my future. I can see my sister's children coming to visit, but that's it. I do NOT want children. I have NEVER wanted children, and I am damn sure that I will NOT want children in the future. Telling me that I will regret this choice is not only disrespectful, it's rude, hurtful, and extremely condescending. I am fully capable to make decision about my own body, thank you very much.

Boy turned 28 in October and another argument with the public insurance company and the welfare office started. Why is it that public officials, who are payed to help you, seem to either be completely incompetent or behave like you're trying to steal their favorite toy?
During this time, I started to look at other aspects of my personality. I had pretty much managed to grind "advance notice, y'all!" into my parents head, and "self-care" was starting to become part of my passive and active vocabulary, so I felt it was time to take a look at other things. One of the major things was sexuality. I have always felt like I was pansexual (feeling sexual attraction towards people regardless of gender identity or expression), but it had always had an additional feeling of "Are you sure?". This is when I got linked to a page about asexuality and I had maybe the hundredth "A-HA!" moment of the year.

Now, I don't like labels. Labels are for mayo and clothes, not for people. It just makes life much easier to start with a label and work from there.

Asexuality didn't really fit, however, since I experience sexual attraction when it comes to Boy. I would say that I'm somewhere in between asexual and demisexual, but again, I'm not a huge fan of labels. I am just me, and that's enough.

My birthday came and went and I was happily surprised that people really remembered my gift wishes (I don't care about gifts, really. It's just very nice to know that people remember my wishes). The end of November also saw the escalation of the problems with the welfare office, and a change in medication for me. Said change in medication had the beneficial side-effect of making me not really care about the woman handling our case at the welfare office and her attempts to undermine our safety (this whole mess seems to have worked itself out, so I'm not worried anymore).

On December 16 I went to the hospital to undergo the sterilization surgery. This was the happiest and the most painful time I have experienced in a really really long time. Trust me, getting your uterus filled with water in order to make things easier to see for the surgeon is very very VERY painful. It was worse than any cramps I've ever had and the pain just didn't want to stop. Thankfully, they gave me some painkillers that worked so-so, and two hours after the surgery I was bored out of my mind. I was counting ticks on my heart monitor and messing around with the plastic thing on my finger to see the effect it would have on my heart rate, just to entertain myself. I was discharged four hours after the surgery and we went to my parents' house to celebrate my mom's birthday.

The end of the year was fairly uneventful, with the usual heap of food, gifts, scared-out-of-her-wits cat, and dinner with parents' and dad-in-law on New Year's Eve.

And with this I wish you a blessed year to come and many amazing experiences in the future.