When I started this blog I was determimated to make it an honest, unfiltered space where I could write honestly about whatever I wanted. That was easier said than done. I did’nt realize how hard it is to put yourself out there. My main idea with the blog was to mix impronant subects that are close to my heart, with inspiering posts about fashion, interior etc. I realize it’s been mostly the later.
I had a huge argument with my boyfriend today and when he questioned why I had’nt posted on my blog in forever and said he worked harder on coding it than I do writing it, I got furious. Who was he to tell me what to do? I said “my life sucks and no one want’s to read about it” (did I mentioned I’m having a bad day?). After I calmed down I realized he was right, it just hurts to hear the truth sometimes. I was so eager to get my blog “ready” so I could start and he spent hours and hours making it look the way I wanted. Then it was time to start bloging and suddenly it was all in my hands. I love bloging when I’m having a good day. Then I feel inspired and motivated to share all that happiness with my readers. But on days when I’m not feeling so well, I just don’t post. This is my misstake. I’ve been doing the oposite of what I intended to with this blog. I want to write about even my worst days. Maybe If I had found a blog like that when I was 14 and anxsious I would’nt have felt so lonely.
I wanna tell you a little story about myself. I was always the ambitious, determinated girl who knew exactly what she wanted to do. In 7th grade I decided I wanted to be a fashion designer and from there that was my only goal. I got into a textile and design-oriented gymnasium. I was working my ass off to be best in my class, I was the teachers favorite and I honestly think everyone expected me to go far in life, I certainly expected myself to go far in life. I remember how my classmates would freak out because they were’nt sure of what to do after we graduated. I would feel sorry for them and thinking I was so lucky for knowing what I wanted. After school I got accepted to the fashion design programe at Istituto Marangoni in Paris. A prestegious school within the fashion industry. I was proud of myself and I kept on working my ass off the first semester.
Ever since I was 13 or 14 years old I’ve been struggeling with anxiety and panic attacks. It’s been up and down ever since and I’ve been to therapy a few times.
So when I was in Paris, my angsiety hit me again. I had been fine for probably 2 years before this, with barely any panic attacks at all. But I think the stress got to me. I started getting panic attacks in class, wich resulted in me skipping classes because I was afraid. Eventually I dropped out because I did’nt know how to handle it. Looking back I think I should have told my friends, but I was too ashamed. They seemed to be doing fine, why would they understand a weirdo like me?
I would call my mom and my grandmother at night because I was freaking out. I wanted to stay in Paris because going home felt like the biggest failure ever. I blamed all my anxiety on my school, because it had been so stressful. That might have been the trigger but it was so much more than that. I enrolled in a french language course. I think I went there 4 times but I had panic attacks every damn time and I ended up just isolating myself in my apartement. At one point it became almost unbarable beeing around people, even going 20 meters down the street to the supermarket was too much for me.
In the end of June, I got rid of my beautiful apartement and moved back home to Sweden. It was such a relief. I felt better that summer and my anxiety calmed down, although I can’t say it really went away completely since then. Even if I was feeling better I was struggeling with the fact that I had quit school and left Paris. I felt like such a failure. What were people thinking about me? But most importantly what was I gonna do now?
After this a lot of stuff have happened, I could write about it all but I don’t think anyone would have the patience to read. To sum it up: I got a job at my dads company, I moved out of my moms house and bought an apartement in Malmö. I met my boyfriend in Copenhagen and started going there to see him every other weekend. I still had anxiety on and off this whole time. I quit my job and got a new one in a bridal store. I sold my apartement, I moved in with my boyfriend in Copenhagen, I got fired from my job at the bridal store and from there I have struggled a lot.
Despite all this beeing really hard at times, I would’nt want to change it if I could. These struggles made me who I am. I am working every day on beeing brave and not letting my angsiety stop me. I have a family who always supports me, the sweetest friends and the most amazing boyfriend in the world. I know I have a lot to be thankful for. My problem is I tend to focus on the negative and I just see all the things I don’t have instead of the things I do have.
I feel like l’ve been on this mission towards happiness, to find my way out of anxiety. The problem is I gave it too much attention, to much focus. Instead of just living my life I’ve been in a constant battle with my mind. My new mission is to stop treating life as a mission. Just live and let anxsiety come and go and not give it more focus. What deserves my focus are my friends, family and above all my boyfriend who have had to put up with so much and still keeps believing in me and pushing me and suporting me.
I’m not sure what my purpose with this transparent post was. I guess I just needed to break the ice. There might be someone reading this who have had similar struggles and if my post can help even one person feel less lonely, I think it’s worth putting myself out there.