I’m sitting here trying to come up with something to write, I have so much to say but for some reason I don’t feel like I can be honest.

As soon as you open up you give people a chance to judge you on a more personal level..

I used to be able to say that I didn’t care what anyone said or thought about me, because I’m been used to be judged. Lately I haven’t been able to recognize myself, what is up with all the liking needs and hashtags on insta? I’m proud of my photos and they are freaking awesome, but since when did I start seeking this confirmation?

The life in america has gotten to me…
2016 was my worst here ever, I just found out that it wasn’t over.
I feel like such a weak person who doesn’t deserve better, i feel sorry for myself as if that would help, just because no one else cares. There are no surprises anymore.. you get what you deserve and i must be the worst.

Again now I’m writing this, with honesty and I’m sure someone will ask whats going on, or sit quite behind their screen and judge without words.

They say we all deserve happiness, and that its the law of attractions, but i’m too tired to pretend to be happy when i’m not, to be social when i’m not, to be false when i’m not.



A recovering alcoholic

(This is my unedited article originally written for my University newspaper The Cougar Chronicle. )

My relationship with alcohol started when I was around 13 or 14. It was there for celebration, for heartbreaks, in secret and out loud. For god’s sake it has such impact on me that I became a bartender when I was 19. Little did I know that I was about to lose control over it.

At the age of 21 I was in Bali with my sister, alcohol was there too.
Beer, daiquiris, vodka-Redbull and tequila shots, each glass didn’t cost more than $2
One night at the five-floor nightclub I’ve had enough.

Finding myself in the bathroom not able to go back out to dance or drink – it all went black


I woke up the next morning in the hospital, alone.

Some strangers had gotten me into a taxi, taken me to the hospital and made sure I was safe. Who were these people? Sadly but forever grateful, I will never know.

One would think I had learned my lesson, but when spending the night and morning with IV no hangover to be worried about, I was ready to get back to my dear alcohol and so I did.


Not even six months later I had moved to Norway and gotten myself a new job. Excited for the first company party, all the new co-workers and the free alcohol that was going to be served, I forgot to eat dinner.

The forgetfulness of a meal would come back to haunt me only hours later…

Rom and coke, my favorite of all time drinks together with tequila shots laid the way for disaster.

Told back to me, this is what happened…

One of the security guards comes up to my friend and tells her that it seems like her friend has had too much to drink, and to get her out.
Outside the bar where the party was held I apparently vomit on a co-worker. Not being able to get contact with me they called the ambulance

I woke up the next morning in the hospital, alone.

“No, not again” my panic started to rise; boy did I make a fool of myself last night.


One would think that I had learned my lesson, but a 21-year old girl doesn’t learn that easy. My depression progressed after that and alcohol was still with me. It gave me courage at least that’s what I thought I was.

Last Halloween I met alcohol again. Last Halloween I fought with my boyfriend. Last Halloween I got punched in the face. Last Halloween I did learn.


Alcohol, after 14 years I’m breaking up with you. Alcohol you are not nor were you ever good to me. Alcohol, I can’t handle you. Alcohol we’re done!