A beautiful disaster

Ten years of my life. Ten awful, beautiful, weird, funny, crazy, sad, tragic, good and bad years. It all started in 2006. The depression, the anxiety. My efforts as a radio reporter, my work as a journalist - it all went down the drain that year. I stared at a knife with something new in my eyes, something dark and terrible. I sat on the floor in my kitchen crying, screaming. All alone.

Almost ten years ago I wanted to disappear. And then I did. I went away, to the other side of the globe. Where no one knew me. I felt so strong and happy and free, for a short amount of time. But the darkness found me and almost drowned me on the beaches of Thailand. Alcohol and drugs and lots and lots of sex. Searching for love but that was a mission impossible. The darkness destroyed me. I was too restless, too anxious, too much.

I came back to Sweden and my non-existence almost killed me. And saved me, I guess.

Nothing is ever so easy as it looks, my friends. A simple beach life in Thailand, diving, laughing, fucking - it always means that you have left something else behind. Not everyone is running from something or someone, but change is hard work. True change.

Change is wanting something to get better. Intentions. Hard work, when hard work is fun.

I'm not sure I make sense today, but this is the start. The start of a new year, of a new life. I crave change.

The coming ten years are supposed to be full of love and laughter! No more sadness, emptiness, loneliness. I can take a fight with my inner demons if I have to, but I don't want my entire life to be about that.

2015 was a good year for me, a great year. There was almost no problems with my health, no depressions, no manic episodes, no anxiety. Good things happened, I got a job in the end of January and I'm still there.

But let's face it: I WANT MORE.

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