Reading

I’ve skimmed through most of my archives today. I found posts about painful things, posts about things I’d almost forgotten and was happy to find, a lot of posts on rape and stuff like that.

One of the most painful posts I’ve ever written was about the time I was raped. Back then I didn’t call it rape. I was in denial and blamed myself… I read a lot of very painful posts on that.

Another painful post was the first one I wrote about my eating disorder.

I remeber the summer before I turned ten. I was on a school trip to a city a few hours train-ride away and there was a pair of scales in the bathroom there. I was curious, so I checked to see how much I weighed. I was tweny-nine kilos. I nearly freaked out! That was SO MUCH in my eyes, when in reality it is as average as it gets. I refused dinner that nigh, first time of many I did that.

I also found happy posts, but for some reason those never seem to be able to cancel out all the pain.

I wrote on post about pro-lifers, and how the ones we got in Sweden are miles better than the nut cases over seas. I wrote about counselling and panic attacks and friends and crushes and partying. I had a lot of posts with lyrics in them cos I couldn’t find the right words on my own.

I’ve written a lot in the past year or so^^