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I want to write something deep and profound that will mean something to me in the future. But the truth is that I just feel like life is unfair and totally sucks!

My ex has a new girlfriend - two and a half years after we broke up, so it's not like he rushed into anything. But it still bothers me, because I  never stopped loving him. And also, I wanted to beat him to the punch. "Love's not a competition, but I'm winning" and all that.

Right at this moment, I feel fine. I wasn't when I found out: It was like we broke up all over again. But maybe this needed to happen for me to really move on. I've started moving on, but now I'll throw myself in headfirst. I deleted him from Instagram. Probably should've done that ages ago. Social media is truly the worst thing in the world when it comes to realtionships, so good riddance.

I'm sure the next few weeks will be a total yoyo-experience, and the one person whose arms I need around me won't be here.

We are not in control of our own happiness. Don't let anyone tell you that. If that were true, we'd be happiest alone. And I don't mean single, I mean ALONE. No friends, no family, no nothing.

Answer for question 4591.

What's the one job you could never see yourself doing (regardless of whether it's much of a possibility that you'd ever have to)? Why is it so loathsome to you? What's the worst job you've actually had?
Disclaimer: I don't look down on anyone for having a job I wouldn't personally want.

I could not picture myself ever working as a telemarketer. Mainly because phones give me major anxiety. Nor do I ever want to be chained to a desk, with a headset on and spend my days basically disturbing people. Let's be honest here, no one likes it when telemarketers call.

I'm currently holding a job I never thought I would have: I work as a cleaner in an office building. You gotta do what you gotta do to survive.

Answer for question 4564.

What was your last dream about? Do you tend to dream in black and white or in color? Was there a particular symbol, person, or object in it that you remember that seemed to have special significance? What do you think its presence in the dream might mean?
I had a dream that my great grandfather passed away (he died twelve years ago). And then I saw him in the dream, which happens sometimes, usually when I need comfort. As always, I was the only one in the dream who saw him. And he gave me the same warm and reassuring look he always does. But then it turned into a sad look, almost a scared look.

If I were to go into super analytical mode, I'd say that maybe he's sad about the week I've had. He's told me before to stop being so serious and play more. But this past week has been filled with bitterness and political thinking. Maybe he's disappointed that I've let myself get drowned in my depressing surroundings?

I have the right to remain silent

It was recently pointed out to me that I should not voice my opinion on racism because I'm white. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Although those were not the exact words expressed, that's what they meant. Most people who know me have heard me label myself as racist - against my own people. And I do admit to being prejudice. I'm only human (until proven alien). But I would never think less of anyone for being different from me (unless you're from Stockholm or Blekinge). But it hurt to hear these words being aimed at me. If it had been said by a random person, I would still be upset, but would not put too much thought into it, but this came from a person who claims to know me better than anyone. So it was the biggest slap in the face I have ever received in my life. And it got me thinking about all the other things I'm not allowed to say, simply based on who I am. And I don't just mean skin color. So for the past few days at work, I've preoccupied the lonely hours with making a mental list of things I'm not allowed to say/do/feel.

I am not allowed to express an understanding of what racism feels like, because I am white.
I am not allowed to speak in terms of there even being different races, enthicities, religions in this country, because I am white.
I am not allowed to feel hurt when someone calls me racist names and tells me to go home to my own country, because I am white.
I am not allowed to complain about how hard it is to find a proper job, because I am white.
I am not allowed to love colonial style houses, because colonialism represents racism.
I am not allowed to be offended, by anything, because I am white and therefore priviledged in every single area of life.
I am not allowed to love Denmark, because they are labeled as racist.
I am not allowed to consider Danish sexy, because no one else understands what they're saying.
I am not allowed to speak about weight, because I am skinny.
I am not allowed to feel hurt when someone calls me disgusting and bony, because I am skinny.
I am not allowed to say I'm not a foodie, because I am skinny and therefore automatically anorexic.
I am not allowed to say that I do like food, because I am skinny.
I am not allowed to deny having an eating disorder, because I am skinny.
I am not allowed to say that I was bullied in school, because I always had friends, I don't have any physical scars, and I didn't hate going to school.
I am not allowed to like lingerie and Victoria's Secret, because that is not feminist.
I am not allowed to say that I am not feminist, because I am a woman.
I am not allowed to call myself an adult, because I live with my father.
I am not allowed to feel in any way upset about my parents' divorce, because I am an adult.
I am not allowed to call myself a florist, because I don't work as one fulltime.
I am not allowed to say that I am a writer, because I am not published.
I am not allowed to call myself a linguist, because I don't have a degree.
I am not allowed to call myself intelligent, because I don't have a degree.
I am not allowed to call myself intelligent, because I am obsessed with the Kardashians.
I am not allowed to say I'm street smart, because I'm not from the streets.
I am not allowed to say I went to college, because I dropped out.
I am not allowed to call myself a citizen of the world, because I have never left Europe.
I am not allowed to say I prefer to vacation away from the tourists, because I am madly in love with Mallorca, and the Mediterranean in general.
I am not allowed to say that I speak Swedish fluently, because I speak Scanish.
I am not allowed to criticize Sweden, because I am Scanian.
I am not allowed to criticize Sweden, because I am Swedish.
I am not allowed to criticize Sweden, because I am "Danish".
I am not allowed to prefer English over Swedish, because I live in Sweden.
I am not allowed to say I hate pickled herring, because I live in Sweden.
I am not allowed to say I hate pickled herring, because I enjoy sushi.
I am not allowed to say I don't believe in God, because I don't have an explanation for the Big Bang.
I am not allowed to call myself spiritual, because I do not believe in God.
I am not allowed to blame others for anything, because we are in charge of our own destinies.
I am not allowed to feel sad or angry, because there are always those who have it a lot worse than myself.
I am not allowed to throw out food, because there are children starving in Africa.
I am not allowed to say I am in physical pain, because there is no apparent physical evidence.
I am not allowed to say I am in psychological pain, because there is no physical evidence.
I am not allowed to say I suffer from mental illness, because I don't show it and I'm not on medication, nor did I ask for a signed paper to prove it.
I am not allowed to say I have severe anxiety, because few people have seen me have an attack.
I am not allowed to say I have suffered from depression, because I haven't spent weeks curled up in bed just crying all day long.
I am not allowed to say I am an angry person, because I am always smiling.
I am not allowed to say I am a sad person, because I am always smiling.
I am not allowed to say I am against suicide, because I have never contemplated it.
I am not allowed to say I don't believe in popping pills, when I take vitamin b and allergy pills every day.
I am not allowed to say that my monthly cramps make me want to die, because there are those who have had their limbs blown off.
I am not allowed to say that I'm tired, because I am young.
I am not allowed to complain about old people, because I am young.
I am not allowed to complain about young people, because I am young.
I am not allowed to say that I'm in love, because I am not in a relationship.
I am not allowed to say I have a broken heart, because I flirt.
I am not allowed to say that ***** took my virginity, because others say so.
I am not allowed to talk about the longest relationship I have ever had, because he told me not to.
I am not allowed to say that handball is the greatest game ever invented, because I hate playing it.
I am not allowed to express sympathy for those forced to live on the street, because I don't offer them the money I need every penny of to keep myself alive.
I am not allowed to give money to raise breast cancer awareness but NOT wear the ugly pink ribbon, because that means I'm evil.
I am not allowed to have ANY opinions on child care, because I do not have children.
I am not allowed to dislike cats, because I have a dog.
I am not allowed to say I have suffered, because I have made it through.
I am not allowed to call myself shy, because I talk to strangers.
I am not allowed to talk to strangers, because I am shy.
I am not allowed to not like alcohol, because I'm in my twenties and live in Sweden.
I am not allowed to love snow, because... who fucking knows? It might be the law.
I am not allowed to write this bitter and pessimistic list, because I am who I am, namely perfect.

I named this post "I have the right to remain silent". But I'm not even sure I'm allowed to do that.

Answer for question 4556.

What are your thoughts on the refugee crisis in Syria? Wherever it is that you live, do you want your city/state/country to take in refugees? Why or why not?
I'm so glad you asked.

People need to realize that the Syrian refugees are running from actual war, and the very terrors that hit a little too close to home in Paris just over a week ago. This is not an invasion; no one is trying to run you out of your country, but simply asking you to share it with those in need. And please, don't believe the propaganda that Islam is the enemy. It doesn't suit you.

I live in Sweden and we are doing our best to help, but it's not enough. We have officially run out of housings for the refugees and therefore cannot treat them as they deserve; people who have lost everything have no choice but to sleep outside in the snow. Others need to step up and help. (Also, things would be more manageable if our xenophobes would stop burning down houses intended for refugees, but that's a story for another day.)

I wish we could help every single person in need, but we are drowning here. I'm mainly pointing an angry finger at you, America. Because I know your statistics. Listen to President Obama and accept 10,000 refugees before the end of the year. It's not that big of a deal. "How can you say that?" you ask. Well, because that's the very number of refugees coming into Sweden every single week.

Answer for question 4530.

Benjamin Franklin said "Many people die at twenty five and aren't buried until they are seventy five." Do you think this sentiment is true -- that a lot of people are just existing in their life rather than really living it? Has this ever been true for you? What things do you do to try to bring new things, people, and experiences into your life?
Basically just existing, I'm afraid. Cause living is hard! How so? Well, I prefer to do my actual living with people I care about, but whenever I take charge of the living, I get no response. At least that's how it feels from this pit of bitterness I'm sitting in tonight.

Answer for question 4523.

What's been the best decision you've made in your life so far? What's been the worst? Do you generally consider yourself a good or bad decision maker?
Hands down: going to florist school.

Although it was one of the roughest times of my life - getting mono and my heart broken in a way I never thought possible - it gave me the distance I needed to find myself. It gave me a skill, a profession and some of the most amazing friends you could even imagine.

Truth be told, deciding to apply to florist school was the first time I ever did something that was 100% my own decision. It's not something I've thought about before, but I am a pretty lousy decision maker. Sure, I've stayed away from a lot of bad things in life, but I'm terrible at making choices that are good for me and me alone. There's always that voice in my head that forces me to think about other people.

Answer for question 4518.

Describe what you think is your best talent. Has that talent proven useful in your life? What's one talent you wish you had but don't currently possess?
What talents do I have? The jury is still out on that one. But if you ask me, it's these:
1. I'm an awesome driver.
2. I'm a language sponge.
(3. Others have pointed out that my singing is a talent, but I'm not sure I agree.)

I might say writing was a talent, if I didn't personally consider it more of a gift. But then again, so are the abilities to drive well and absorb languages. So now I'm confused.

A talent I am working on, however, is being able to do the splits. I try to stretch on most days, but a lot of the time, I'm too lazy.

Is being quick a talent? People have always commented on how fast I complete tasks. I like to think I'm a ninja at work, but in reality I'm too noticeable to be a ninja. I mean, some people have never even seen me, but they hear the whoosh and feel the wind as I sprint by.

Why didn't I think of this before?! One of my biggest talents is the ability to rant about nothing on the internet!

And I just thought of another one that other people have pointed out, but I just don't see:
Apparently I'm good at making interesting color combinations. Throughout my childhood, I've often heard "Oh, that combination is... interesting..." Yeah, I hear it too: that's not a compliment. But then when I went to florist school, we did this thing where we offered constructive criticism and praise. My most common received praise was my choice of colors, "I would never have thought to combine those, but it looks really good!" So yeah. There's that.

Now I'm off to perfect my splits! I should probably change my pants first, cause splitting my pants is NOT a talent.

Happy List

Ever since I found out that my oldest group of friends all had a get-together without me, I've been in the bitchiest mood. But in a sassy way, and I love it. I've also had Uptown Funk stuck in my head for two days, so yes, I have danced - which is very out of character for me. I'm also excited about going back to work tomorrow. Do I enjoy cleaning? Hell no! But the people are great and they always welcome me back with open arms.

Here's a batch of happy:

- Word Feud (Scrabble for cell phones)
- your dog's impeccable manners at the vet's
- looking at the backyard through the window at night
- the giggling that comes with finding an unflushable coin in the toilet
- imagining that the dog interrupting your workout is his way of saying "you're already perfect the way you are"
- a camera shy spider
- the irony of going inside just before the sun peeks out from behind the clouds
- flat-on-your-back cycling: a great, easy workout
- a summery evening in early September
- making plans for the future with your best friends in the world
- being mature enough to determine when it's the right time to take the childish approach
- a groovy ringtone
- the irony of having "the lazy song" playing while you're scrubbing the toilet
- when boredom turns into productivity
- blowing soap bubbles with your mouth
- the combination of orange and passion fruit
- buttered Marie crackers
- taking your time on the toilet
- choosing books based on cover and/or title
- when temporarily confused, failing to decide if the English alphabet ends with Zee or Zed, simply going with Zzz

That last one is my favorite.

Sep. 17th, 2015

I've started having these monthly depressions where I start to overthink every detail of my life and am rendered completely miserable and without sparks to usher me forward. I want to write about my worries, yet at the same time, I don't think digging myself too deep into it is a very good idea. Nor is thinking happy thoughts helping all that much. I've read somewhere that for some people positive thinking can actually do more harm than good. I think that's a good description of me when I'm in these moods.

The key to it all would be to not think, and just be. But shutting off my brain, even for a second, is something which I have never managed to do. They had a segment on the news the other night about coloring books for adults. Coincidentally, my sister bought one that very day, not knowing about the news. I flipped through it and found maybe five pages I'd like to color. The rest just didn't look all that appealing. The news segment stated that doing something "mind numbing", or using your right brain - without the left; no creating that involves thinking! - was by far the best way to relax and de-stress. I would love to do that, it sounds like heaven! They also recommended knitting. I have been knitting for the past few months, but I don't find it to be all that soothing: I'm still thinking! And my thumbs start to hurt after I've knitted too long. So then there's the issue of my fucked up thumbs.

One thing I've found to be very de-stressing is painting. And I don't mean painting landscapes or whatever. I mean just taking out my colors and a canvas and mix different shades of the same color and go for it! I love working with textures and small details that are only visible if you follow the structure, only to realize it's been disrupted. Now, there is of course a downside to this as well: Where the fuck to I put all the paintings?! I don't have room for all the ones I want to create, and I'm not sure I could ever get rid of my creations. I'm far too emotionally attached for that.

On a whole different note, I no longer find workouts to be as fun or rewarding as I used to. I get bored very easily, and I need goals. So last night, I thought of a new goal: I want to be able to do a split again. I could do it when I was a kid (really, which kid couldn't?) but then I got old and stiff. So I started with a stretch tutorial this morning. Let's just say that I was nowhere near as limber as the girl in the tutorial, but that's okay, I'll get there. That's why I'm doing the exercises, duh! I feel pretty alright now, but my bet is that by nightfall, or at least tomorrow morning, I will really feel the burn in my legs. And I've also (re)discovered that I have absolutely no balance whatsoever. So that's a problem.

My sister and I talked about getting into archery (because we're both obsessed with Robin Hood) and found that there's an archery club very close to where I live. Now, my phone anxiety keeps me from calling them, and I also don't like organized sports. So I'd rather train on my own. It's fine, I looked it up: bows and arrows are not considered weapons under Swedish law (hunting with bow and arrow is actually illegal), but fall into more of a hobby category, meaning that anyone is free to practice, so long as it's under safe circumstances. We'll see what happens. Knowing me, I'll get tired of the idea in a couple of weeks and will just let it go.

This entire post was written with Dr. Jen Arnold (from The Little Couple) talking in my head. That's just a glimpse of what really goes on in there.