Category Archives: Musings

Sleep and Mental Health

I accepted that if I’m going to study full-time I need to rest when tired, and sleep at night. This was hard, even if I know it on an intellectual level, accepting it on the emotional level was not something I’ve really been able to do.

Yesterday I both napped, and slept at a reasonable hour. 3hr nap when I got home from uni, and 10hr sleep from midnight, approximately. I was a lot more tired yesterday than I thought I was, and “crashed” when I came home from uni. Note, I could’ve been home all day, but I wanted to get some stuff done, pick up a book and do some studying, so I went to uni. When I got home we had food ready as leftovers, and I could eat before resting (thank you past me).

What I’m trying to get at is this: I will still need to rest today because I’ve been at it all week. Even if I feel surprisingly rested already by allowing myself to both nap yesterday and sleep at night.

Again, there was an emotional “I’ve been good all week, let me be up all night and game”-response which I had to fight, not too hard luckily. I did it by just examining how I was feeling, and which was stronger, and tired was it. After a 10hr night, I’m still going to take it very easy today, but do a few things around the house to make us both feel better, to make next week even easier to deal with.

I do feel like if I keep at this balancing I should be okay. And I need to process and remind myself what works and what doesn’t work. As well as, why it works or why it doesn’t work.

A journey in writing and editing

This particular journey started about 9 years ago, when I began using the internet for activism, and eventually got my first Netbook.

Thinking about it it’s possible that it began even earlier when I was in my teens, hanging out on IRC and eventually learning to write scripts for mIRC. I began programming.

That interest stayed with me, while the interest to write had already been with me since I started to learn how to write. I kept a diary when I was 8 years old, and eventually I began writing more and more in it, always caring a diary with me in later grades in school.

Different communities provided diary functions, what I didn’t realize at the time was that this was basically blogging, and I did it a lot. Even when I had a physical notebook to write in by hand, I would also keep a public, to friends or everyone on the platform, diaries.

The first one was plain text, which eventually got some formatting options, and if you understood how to use them you were some kind of wizard. But I wanted to learn, play around and find my own esthetic.

But, the journey I’m more interesting in is from html text editors and CLI, and shunning WYSIWYG, to be now actually preferring to work with editors which help me along the way.

Basically it’s a mental health thing, an allocation of resources. Finding that I’m now incapable of running Linux which tbh even the best of visuals still rely heavily on the command line, and opting for windows “because it just works”.

Yes, I’ve run my own wp server. I’ve had two Ubuntu servers to play around with. One for media and one for internet stuff (the WordPress, as well as irc related stuff). And yes I’ve run Ubuntu on my Netbook. I’ve fixed broken windows installs with help of Linux, and used to write really noob guides for Linux when I got started with it because there wasn’t any that were on a low enough level to teach me the lingo etc.

I used to prefer plain text, and just focus on writing first and formatting later. I’d be able to crank out an idea without looking at it until later, sometimes already formatting in code format because of the editor.

Today I have been trying out the new Gutenberg editor with WordPress, and I’m finding it very rewarding to use, for me in the place I’m at right now. What I mean is, because of various brain fog and other difficulties it helps me to be able to just view the visual and find the correct button.

So I went from this to only running Windows or Osx (because we have two MacBooks in the household), not launching my own servers or self hosting in other ways. And writing in editors which help me along.

My journey had taught me that wysiwyg editors etc. serve a purpose, and help those who need it. Currently for me, with CFS/me it’s just too much mental overhead to set up my own server, learn a new platform to work with, instead of just picking something I already know.

On that note though I’m currently trying to baby step when I want to try new things, and there’s progress being made, but we can talk about that another day. Being able to choose what I do where, gives me a lot more space to learn new things, and energy to write more blog posts. I feel like we’re on to something here.


This post had been updated from its first draft to add in a few more paragraphs.

If you enjoyed this little article of musings, and would like me to be able to write them more, feel free to head over my patreon and check out the tiers there!

Disorganized publishing – publishing on the go

While writing at the keyboard at the computer is quite nice, swiping away at the phone is a whole other beast.

I’ve learnt that I can touch swipe better if I’m looking at the word in writing rather than looking at keyboard. Which is interesting. I think it’s easier to remember the approximate motion of the swipe by just not looking at the keyboard, when I do it always feels like I’m missing

Example of wiring with the apple store function while looking at the keyboard

Example of looking at the text instead.

I did change what I wrote, because I started editing. Maybe I should make a video some day to show you all how smooth this is.

I have two words that always get written wrong when I look at the keyboard :

Thank has been plaguing me for the past few months always turning into Thanh and Thang…

Remember I had to rewrite three times just now.

That said, I guess this is my endorsement for SwiftKey!

Yes, I know they basically track everything I type, but it’s so valuable to be able to just swipe away.


If you enjoyed this little article of musings, and would like me to be able to write them more, feel free to head over my patreon and check out the tiers there!

When the world around you gives up and forgets you

While a lot of the work I do do is public and visual, all the work I can’t do, is for quite obvious reasons, invisible.

That I can stream may be indicative of the fact that I should be able to work. And maybe it is but I just can’t see it myself, maybe I haven’t gotten far enough to make something worth while out of it. This isn’t a text about giving up, but rather about feeling invisible, and it’s going to get personal and it’s going to suck. But here goes.

I most likely have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome or something similar or close to it, while I thought I was already diagnosed with it, it turned out I wasn’t diagnosed with the Chronic one, even though I can trace it back to being 17 years old, if not earlier. So there’s things I need to do to get the help I need to be able to live, things that I can’t get myself to do because I do not have enough energy. Energy in this capacity is often referred to as spoon, as per Spoon Theory, which tends to help people who struggle with mental health or chronic pain issues, explain why they do not have energy, or why they can’t take care of themselves.

I am a very sociable person, I’m just bad at reaching out to people who are important to me, and family in particular. I reach out to my family when I’m in trouble, and I wait until I’m in a deep hole I can’t get out of on my own. I reach out to friends who I have showed that I can pay back when I can’t afford to pay off some shit, especially since I thought I had a job, turned into me not having a job, and not having an income and now I can’t pay them back. No, this isn’t a begging for support, post. I’m beyond that. I won’t do it, it’s not my style. So I’m here providing content, if you may, so there will be a reason to support me, and the stuff I do.

Other visible things I am able to do, which you probably see that I do is the streaming, which I already touched upon. Streaming is something I can do from home, without having a shower (on my worst days), and push over that threshold of anxiety that would leave me paralyzed and not able to leave the house. Again this loops back to “But if you can stream, why can’t you get a normal job?”, who would want to keep me hired if every few days I collapse in tears, or can’t get to work because I’m exhausted or crying? What work could I do that doesn’t drain me entirely? There was one thing, and it’s something I may be able to do again, and that is working with community and taking care of community.

Sharing this post, may actually turn into being detrimental to getting a possible job in the future, so be it, because I need to talk about these feelings.

Yesterday, which I guess is the trigger for this, I saw that people close to me, close to my heart was finally close by geographically, my sisters. And they were just across the bridge, and if they would’ve wanted to, they could’ve seen me, or let me know that they were “in town”, I would have dipped into those savings and headed over, because being allowed to see them if just for a few hours, instead of spending more than 16hrs of travel to try and go to where they live (I say more, because 16 is if you go by car, with no stops). But I did not get the chance to go see them yesterday, or if it was the day before, who knows when Instagram shows you these things. I did not even get a “hey we’re going to be in Copenhagen, but we can’t make time to see you for x y z reason”, I could have lived with that. But I’m afraid that they didn’t reach out to me, because they know I don’t have enough money for rent, and probably didn’t want me to ask for money to be able to see them.

I am considering throwing myself out on the job market, even though it scares the crap out of me, and then work myself until I’m totally exhausted and broken and end up on full-time sick-leave again, because that would be a way to pay the rent. Unfortunately, because I’m in between, and not sick enough, but also not well enough I can’t get help. Because I followed my heart and my passion last year, I lost any chance to get supported via the Swedish welfare system, because that system isn’t adaptable to people like me, people who may get spurts of energy, but then be nonfunctional for the other 75% of the year.

Maybe this is why my rate is pretty high, because I need to be able to afford not being able to work. I need to be able to pay the proper taxes and insurances to handle getting sick. Does that mean that what I can give when I can give isn’t worth it? I wouldn’t think so.

Who wants to support someone who’s just sad and depressed, that’s what we ask ourselves a lot of the time isn’t it? Even when we are being supported, we view ourselves worthless, because in a capitalist world, you’re only worth as much as you can produce, and maybe even then you’re not good enough.

What I’m trying to say I guess, is that I do not know how we’ll be able to support ourselves this fall, but we have made due this year, barely scraping by, with some extra pushes around Xmas, and for my birthday. If we can’t get money from studying this fall, we may be fucked. But we’ll deal with that when we come to it.

Making due, and barely making due. We’re okay, I mean we have a roof over our heads, but as soon as we can’t pay rent anymore, then what? I don’t know. Anyways, summer still has a lot to bring, and I can maybe write more again, finish the revamp of my patreon, continue streaming, and figure out if I have enough energy to squeeze anything else into this. Thank you for reading, and… I think you know where the tip jars are, if you feel so inclined.

In a relationship with Anxiety

Someone updates their facebook status. “is in a relationship with”. a sentence that is rarely finished with anxiety. chronic pain. fatigue.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that I am in an open relationship with anxiety, chronic pain, and chronic fatigue (CFS). I am also in a relationship with my partner, who lives with me, and helps me deal with these destructive relationships which I can’t get away from.

It is like I am married to Anxiety, and we aren’t allowed to get a divorce, nor live apart. So we live here, together in this house, which is my body.

On bad days we will fight, and break things, anxiety will push stuff around inside of our shared house, which also happens to be my body. Anxiety doesn’t care though. Anxiety doesn’t care if they are hurting me, or our shared house.

JUST KILL YOURSELF

I have accepted my fate, that we have to live here together. So, like anyone in an abusive relationship, I… let Anxiety go through the motions, I let them run through the house and wreck things. While I sit silently in a corner hiding.

the constant tension, the fear that they’ll break something. break me. hurt me so much that there is no return. parts of the house become off limits though, but in order to keep anxiety only located in my chest, tension spreads, to shut off the exit routes. My arms, my hands, wrists will contort, as I am trying to calm down anxiety inside of me.

Unfortunately Anxiety will have none of it. “Calm down please.” -NO THE WORLD IS ENDING. “look the world isn’t ending *point at window*” – NO? NO? Okay, BUT FUCK YOU YOU BITCH FOR TELLING ME I AM WRONG.

Anxiety is not reasonable, and not necessary a creature of anger. Just that the rest of the body goes into shutdown, to take care of Anxiety. We care for them, and the concerns they have, we want to help. We want to rationalize. but we end up paralyzed, while trying to calm them down.

Hi, friends, I’m in a relationship with anxiety. – HOW DARE YOU TELL ANYONE WE ARE TOGETHER. I’m not comfortable with you talking about us with other people. Stop it. STOP IT.
Anxiety will always tell us to not talk about them, we are only allowed to talk with them. But when we do, they lead the conversation. Or they make sure we are both quiet.

As I writhe in pain, pain caused by Anxiety, I am told “just break up with them”, by someone who’s never been in a destructive relationship. Who has never feared for their life.

When I talk about Anxiety, they punish me. and I hurt more. I can never talk about them without them showing up, and wrecking havoc in our house.

Sometimes they leave for a while. I don’t notice, because I am occupied with activities that I can’t do when they are around. I can do things which I love, and would love to do more. things I don’t have energy to do when Anxiety is home.

when Anxiety is loud, I get quiet. I may go and rest. Or try to find an outlet, or a distraction. Like eating. Let’s sit down and break bread. Let’s eat, to feel better. -FATTY, why are you eating that? Stop eating. eat more to calm down. Just another piece of crunchy chocolate. chompchomp.
It never helps to eat with anxiety, but I always wish, that today it will work, just this time.

I see myself as a very outgoing person, a happy person who enjoys the company of other people. But on days when Anxiety is present, I am not me, I am quiet instead of talkative. And I just want to hide, because why should I spend time with people if I am not me.

I don’t think Anxiety will ever leave me. And I just have to make due. Sometimes I can rationalize with myself, rather than Anxiety. I will ignore Anxiety’s answers to my questions, and look for my own answers. Sometimes I have to repeat the question over and over, until my voice can be louder than the voice of Anxiety. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.


This is a short essay, and not nearly exhaustive on the subject of living with anxiety.

If you enjoyed this little article of musings, and would like me to be able to write them more, feel free to head over my patreon and check out the tiers there!

First week of work

I’ve been working with my new job for a week. This is the first day that I’m taking a real day off. I tried om Saturday, but I had fires to extinguish. 

I slept 14hrs, and woke up around 13.00. Sleeping this much reminded me that I’ve been neglecting my naps and rest time. I’ll elaborate on this, just have to go through a few other things first. 

Yesterday my live-in boyfriend pointed out that I have been working a lot more than I’ve clocked. Which made me realize that I need to compartmentalize my work more. 

So these things connect, obviously. I need to delineate what my work entails, so I focus on that during my work time. While doing so I also need to delineate my work time as well not just clock in when I’m already doing work my accident. 

This will free me up from stress, because this is my work box [work], this box entails (these chores). Then outside that box I chill and focus on my studying for that designated time. And take my god damn naps! 

My studies,  I’ve already compartmentalized, which has helped me a lot in staying healthy. Basically I’m just borrowing from what I learnt when I started school again in January, after a year sick-leave. 

Maybe I’ll do more updates like this! 

For reference, I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, which makes getting a job scary and exciting at the same time. 

Black and white

I’m so sick and tired of people viewing the world in black and white. We no time for nuance in our posts, our streams. There’s no time and no space. I’m right you’re wrong, I’m wrong you’re right. Black. White.

On top of this, we have algorithmic bubbles, bubbles of views, where most of the ideas that I get to see, is ideas which I agree with. And if I don’t agree with it I can choose to see less of that particular content, I’m not reporting it, not blocking the person, just muting their PoV, and strengthening my own world view in the process.

When someone disagrees with us? We go to attack, we find faults in their grammar, we find faults in their cosmetics, we distill what we believe they are arguing for into two or three words letting them know that we aren’t interested in their ideological nonsense, and that they are wrong. You are dismissed.

Even when that person genuinely wants to open up a conversation, find an agreement, is there any common ground? What is the root of the problem in our society? What can we together do to fix it?

Even if we hate each other, we can only fix this if we work together, and find a root. Maybe we need a grass root, but we need to start growing.

The world is not the worst it’s ever been, it’s just that negative reporting gives more clicks, yields more money. It pays the rent. No one cares if things are going well. Heck, we don’t even care that much about the bad stuff that’s happening. We are too busy, too busy with work, 8-10hrs / day, maybe even 2 jobs, and kids. When are we going to have time to change the world? Someone else can do it for us.

It starts with you, and me, and your neighbor, and your friend’s best friends grandmother. We are all in this together, and we need to take steps to take care of each other. We need to just take a little bit of time to help someone else.

Not tomorrow, not next week. We have to start today.

Kan vi alla hålla med om att vi behöver en hållbar flyktingpolitik?

Vi måste prata om detta, inför Partiledardebatterna, och under den:

Kan vi börja prata om skatteflykterna, och dåligt planerad användning av skattemedel? (så som den fina kryssningsbåten till flyktingar som stog tom måste betalas för och blev en rättsligt tvist, kolosalt höga hyror för asylsökande/flyktingar där uthyrare går i vinst)
Kan vi börja att verkligen titta på Hållbar-utveckling för att ta emot flyktingar?

sustainable

Här är lite länkhjälp om hållbarhet. Känner ni någon riksdagsledamot, eller partiledare, eller blivande partiledare? Prata med dem om detta, låt oss starta ett riktigt samtal! Snälla?

1 – Make them partners, not just recipients.
2- Homes for refugees: eight new designs for conflict housing
3- Urgent Housing Solution – Scandinavian sustainable design at it’s best

Detta är bara ett axplock, det finns så mycket goda idéer där ute. som är genomförbara.
Vissa kommer argumentera: men vi kan inte bara ge dem hus och hem gratis, det kostar pengar. Det är rätt! Men vi kan hjälpa dem att hjälpa sig själva och varandra. Då får vi en fungerande integration och ett fungerande ekosystem.
De som flyr och kommer hit är från alla promenader i livet. Läkare, byggarbetare, lärare, hårfrisörer, designers, etc etc. Ser vi inte hur de kan hjälpa att bygga upp hem, och få i ordning?

Vad händer om vi prioriterar intensivkurser till de som redan är lärare? Så de sedan vidare kan hjälpa fler att lära sig svenska?
Vad händer om de som är pedagoger och psykologer får jobba med de barnen som kommer, får hjälpas åt för att hantera traumat de gått igenom för att ta sig bort ifrån kriget?
Vad händer om de som vet hur man bygger får bli sysselsatta med att hjälpa till att bygga hem till de som kommer?
Vad händer om de som är läkare, undersköterskor och sjuksköterskor får hjälpa dem runtomkring sig, kanske tillsammans med tolk och svensk doktor att ge de personer som kommit hit hjälp med sjukdommar och skador de har?
Vad händer om de som kan sy, får sysselsätta sig med att reparera, sy nytt? Finns det företag idag som har restprodukter som vi skulle kunna låta gå till nytta?

Ser du vad jag menar? Ser du hur detta kan vara en hållbar hjälp? En hållbar utveckling, som bygger sig själv, som inte måste kosta så mycket extra?

Fight the world. Save the world.

Currently the world is making me incredibly depressed. And I don’t have the energy to fight it.

I am a fighter at heart, no question about it. I am of the strong belief that I can’t expect other people to do things that I wont try to do myself, i.e. save the world.

Currently the state of affairs are however driving me nuts. 8 months and counting, and I don’t have energy to save the world.

I get whispers in my ear, telling me that I have to save myself first, before I can save everyone else. I can’t save other people from drowning, if I will drown in the process.

But I want to, I really want to help make the world a better place. What can we do?

For me, that currently am in a state where I can’t really do anything, there are tiny minuscule things that I can do, and then hope that people will pay it forward.

Examples: 1) I’m now a proud patron of Magnus Andersson the current leader of the Swedish Pirate Party, for $25 a month. Those who know me know that 6 years ago I was a candidate in the Swedish election for the Pirate Party. In that situation I also had people who helped me because they could. Right now I can’t go out and work for the Pirate Party myself, but I can help those who do.
2) a few days ago, a lady on Twitter asked if people would be interested in sketches for $15 so she could pay the rent. I signed up, and went ahead and helped.

I do what I can. Sometimes I need to remind myself that I do help as well.

Coming back down to earth

I was high, so high. Up in the clouds, happy and energetic. I knew it wouldn’t last.

Let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about what happens when we come back down from the high. You and I wont be the same, but here’s my side.

It started two days ago, but I didn’t realize. I vented on Twitter, thought it was fine. I went from my happy day-time-mood. Where I’m functioning, and smiling. I took my naps like I should, so I wont crash. I didn’t crash. But at night it came crawling. The thoughts. Why can’t you do more. I have to take baby steps. I talk about it, I talk about it with pride, that I can take these small steps.

IT IS NOT FAST ENOUGH.

Small steps, moving me forward, or not actually moving me at all. Am I getting better? Stress running around inside of me.

I’m fine, it’s good. I’m getting better.

I take my naps, I’m doing what I’m supposed to do. I need to balance. on a ball. on a plank. BALANCE. One wrong step and …

… everything

falls

apart. Again

I recognized it.

It was ignored when I woke up.

Loud voices. My own. Words battling.

Last night anxiety visited me. I shared with twitter, but not with A. Why didn’t I? The anxiety, my old friend, familiar. I managed to calm down and sleep.

Did it boil? Yes, maybe. But today it burst. And when I began crying I couldn’t stop, and I was too exhausted to fight the bad voices. LOUD. SCREAMS. telling me: THE END IS NIGH. I had to hold my self, clench my fist. Stop myself, stop any possible action.

A, wanted to give me space. That was when it broke out. I couldn’t ask for help, I couldn’t talk. the same repetitive words spinning around and round inside my head. Clenching harder.
My sobs reached him. He came and comforted me.

How do you tell someone you love that your mind is SCREAMING at you that you should make him leave, so you can die in peace?

I came down from the high. I see a world in need, a world I want to help. But first I need to help myself, someone else has to save the world.

All this will be brought up with my doctor. Be comforted by the fact that I can talk about it.