Ch 4 My little runaway to happy nation
After finishing school I had contact with doctors that wanted to put me on meds, and pretty much fall asleep, because that is how it feels to take medicine. You don't feel alive anymore, you're in a deep daze, in the mud and everything goes so slow. This is not how I wanted to start my life after finishing school. So, I understand you mother, why you never wanted to take meds or even talk to doctors, but if you exaggerate you might get help, however, I understand if you don´t have the energy. I didn't have the energy either, though, I said that I felt like shit since I was little, had thoughts about death and really wanted to talk to someone. I got someone to talk to, thearpy on the internet, which was totally worthless.
I grabbed my things and left Umeå fast, to a place where I could dream and be free from prejudices which had be hunting me for quite a while. You have mental illness in your family, so you're probably ill too. Here, take a pill, doctors said. But where the fuck were you doctors when I was young when I really needed you? You were at my place, still you couldn't see us. It felt like I was leaving a robotsociety behind me.
Barcelona came to be my first hometown, and big love, my thoughts and my soul. I got rid of my aggressions fast, now I did't have to do with Umeå, stupid dudes or doctors that didn't understand anything. I didn't have to have contact with my family, but the contact with my family actually got better weirdly enough. Though, everything that went down in Barcelona I didn't tell my folks at home, because then I would worry them indefinitive. Since I'm impulsive I often ended up in dangerous situations, which I withdrawed from just as fast, because what was my life worth?
I still had these thoughts that were following me, good old thoughts that I took the bottle to help me with. In this place I knew that they weren't real, my friends and the atmosphere here in Barcelona was. Now I´m 19 years old, and more bold then ever. I had nothing that kept me down, suffocating me and no prejudices following me, because here everything was allowed and there was no hush-hush. If you felt bad, felt anxiety you could say it. Finally there were people around me who was listening.
First three monthts there didn't go one day without a party or other fun stuff, or we just layed there in the sun, listening to the music in the streets. I miss it here in Umeå, sometimes it happens, but no one really stops to listen. This was 2008 and before the whole criss in Europe because Barcelona has changed after that like many other cities. Today it is a bit more regulated, and more aggressions among people. Still a lot more free then in any city in Sweden. Still, I missed my friends back home, and went home during christmas. I stayed for 3 years in Barcelona, then I moved to Mexico, and travelled Honduras, as far as I could get from Sweden. Because there were no humanity or understanding there, now I was finally in countries where we could see each other for the first time, and give each other a helping hand.
I had no breaks in life, it was on, I was working, learning spanish, partyed a bit less because now I've found my way back to my old interest, music and art. I ended up in a company of artists, and worked my way with them, smoking joints and listening to good old Madonnas and talked about life. We went to concerts, met people from everywhere, people I still have contact with. These people enriched me in many ways, I got a hold of new ways to see the world, though I was still sad deep inside. I felt for the first time in a long time some happiness, met a guy, an artist, that made me feel special. Later I realized I was someone else muse, and I was tired to be somebodys, I wanted to go my own way. Even though I still had my problems I could dream big again, I wanted to write, and create. Thanks to my inspiring friends around me. I had finally found the right place, even though I was going off track sometimes. I could handle myself, til one night. I got kicked down by two men who stole not just my purse, but my boldness. I was never myself after that. Now everything just got black, liked I'd feared for when I was young.
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