Frostbitten Beauty

We had the first proper snowfall of the season today, and already I'm dancing around humming "Ho, Ho, Ho - Merry Xmas!" to myself :) I haven't dared humming it out loud yet, as I'm afraid people will think I'm even more mental than I am ;) lol

It's so beautiful outside right now; the dark, wet, light-stealing surfaces of autumn replaced by a bright, white carpet that reflects the light that shines on it. The way the first snowfall seems to caress the ground, almost cuddling it in a huuuuge white blanket is an endearing sight. And I hope the temperatures now stay in the region that causes the snow to stay white, and not turn into a beige, wet slush that makes it impossible to walk outside without getting soaked (leading to the sniffles, leading to possible pneumonia). Hehe, but enough about my inbuilt fatalism ;)

I wrote a song once upon a time, about the love affair between the new snow and the autumn leaves. I have a tendency to forget about it, until once a year when I see the new snow creeping slowly further and further down the mountainside, and it comes back to me. Isn't it a nice thing to picture? The new snow and the autumn leaves longing for each other all year, but like most of the really passionate love affairs I know of, their love is all consuming.

It starts with the new snow only visiting at night, retreating when the day comes. You can see the autumn leaves glittering with happiness and the frosty gifts the snow has left her with. And the next night he comes back. And the next. And they can't stop thinking about each other. But they come from different worlds. Her from the warmths of summer and he from the colds of winter - and the only time they can meet is in those few nights of autumn. Their passion is strong, having been away from each other for so long, and they forget the dangers their relationship poses to themselves - all they want is to be together. And one day, the night turns into day and the new snow does not retreat to the mountaintops, and the autumn leaves suffocate and die in the arms of her lover.

And so it ends - as the greatest love-stories do - in tragedy. Their all-consuming love leads to their end. For the leaves cannot live in the embrace of the snow, and love alone is not enough to change their fate. And that is why, I think, that when the new snow settles on the ground, it looks like a soft, white blanket. To cuddle the one he loves and lost, until next autumn when they get to see each other again :)

The Long And Intricate Truth

I've talked a bit with a few friends of mine regarding the whole concept of a blog, and how often a persons blog-posts don't accurately represent their lives. I suppose it doesn't limit itself to blogs. Facebook, Twitter +++ We all want to give people an impression of what our lives are like. What WE are like. And we do that by offering up fragments of what goes on in our lives. Only these fragments seems to mirror not who we ARE, but who we want people to think we are. It is a well known phenomena. It kinda annoys me - and I'm absolutely guilty of these crimes myself. 

That's why tonight, I'm gonna brave up and tell you all a story. One I've long debated on whether or not to tell, but I want to get it all out there. And "you'd better get comfy, cause it really is quite long" (inside joke: song lyric reference). It's a story of me and some stuff that has happened in my life... IS still happening in my life in fact. And for those of you who read the whole thing: Thank you. I really appreciate it <3. For those of you who jump off now or half way through. No hard feelings. It IS a long story after all ;)

First, let's start with a few facts:

1. As you all know I am a Dreamcatcher-girl. It is my hobby and passion, and although I don't make any money from it, it is very important to me for more reasons than most of you realize (yet).

2. Before I got involved with the music-community I used to make my career in politics. From the age of 16 to 27 I devoted my working hours, free time and party-quota to making the world a better place through political activities. I was a member of the Norwegian Labour Party (Arbeiderpartiet) and its youth league (AUF). I held many positions in the party over the years. Regional election campaign manager for God knows how many elections, regional leader of the youth league, state level politician, secretary at the national headquarters of the Norwegian labour party, parlamentarian leader of the labour party fraction of Troms state parliament, masterclass-lecturer on networking/campaigning/organizational development +++. I was even fortunate enough to be able to travel to the poorest country in the world, South Sudan to participate in the democratization of the country at one point. 

3. I am currently not employed by anyone - nor have I been since January 2011. 

This is why (and so the story begins):

Mind: a powerful ally - a dangerous enemy.

It was June 28th 2007. I was busy managing the current election campaign for Troms Labour Party. It was the day after my husband had declared that he was cheating on me and I felt my life was in ruins. I got a call from the national headquarter of the Norwegian labour party offering me a job in Oslo, an offer I accepted, hoping that a change of climate could make the pain go away and be the change of direction my life needed. After all, I was a strong, independent woman. The kind of superwoman that everyone aspires to be (at least if you're gonna believe all the facebook updates of the people around you). I was looking forward to the status and recognition that this position within the party would give me, and the possibility of working in the office of one of the greatest norwegian politicians of our time, Party Secretary General Martin Kolberg! I've always taken pride in doing a thorough and good job (as close to perfection as possible), and I decided to work my way through my hardships. It had worked before, so why not now? 

I worked day and night to get everything sorted for my move to the big city. Divorce papers. Selling our apartment in Tromsø. Selling the holiday home we had just bought at Senja. Finding a new place to live in Oslo. Finding a kindergarden for Gabriel (3). Working 12 hour days on the election campaign. Finding babysitters for Gabriel for the duration of the campaign! Dodging all questions about the breakup from friends and family... There was no time to think. Just time to act. By the time of the move I had everything sorted, and my life as a single mum and career woman was about to begin. Only I hadn't taken into account that my brain might have had other plans...

Gabriel in Oslo 2007. 

The trouble started soon after we had moved. I slept all the time! It seemed I needed 13-15 hours of sleep every day, and that is just not possible when you're a single mum attempting to be a kickass career-pro as well. So I started missing work. Not because it was a conscious decision of mine, but because my head just simply wouldn't allow me to wake up in the mornings. You have no idea how frustrated I was! And to make the matter worse, I decided not to tell anyone about it, because I didn't want to show any signs of weakness. And no matter how hard I tried to force myself to function properly it just got worse and worse. My short term memory was going down the drains as well, and I could feel my performance at work not being what it should be - or should I say; as good as I knew it could be! I knew I was capable of more than I managed to perform, so the situation annoyed and frustrated the hell out of me! A year into the job my life had been reduced to the following: Get up. Deliver the kid in kindergarden as soon as they opened. Cry on the train to work because I didn't want to face my coworkers. Sit quietly in my cubicle at work working as fast and efficiently as possible hoping that nobody would yell at me. Punch out and run to the train. Pick up my kid right before closing time at the kindergarden. Go to the shopping centre and spend money on pretty things to distract myself from my miserable life. Get home and watch TV to avoid thinking about anything real. Cry myself to sleep. Repeat. And this was an ideal day! :p Then there were the days where it was impossible to get up in the morning so we stayed at home instead. Then I'd spend hours in front of the computer catching up on work - blaming my absence on a "sick kid". I didn't know what else to do. I didn't understand that there was something medically wrong with me. I just beat myself up for not being able to do everything perfectly, like seemingly everyone else managed. 

By the start of 2009 my employer was so worried about me that we decided the best thing to do was probably for me to move back to Tromsø where I had all my family and friends. At that time I had fallen so deep into a depression that I was barely able to look at my boss - not fully understanding that he was a great guy who was worried and wanted to help me. All I could feel was shame that the world around me would now understand that I was less than perfect. I hated what I had become and that I was no longer fully in control over my own mind and physical responses. And most of all I dreaded having to explain to my friends and family back home that I had failed - and that the status and recognition I had looked forward to accepting this job would never come.

Me and the Prime Minister at a rally I organized in 2009.

I was recruited to manage the upcoming election campaign in my home region, Troms - a job they knew I was good at! After all, I had done it before with overwhelmingly successful results every time. But this time, I was also asked if I would like to take over as the parlamentarian leader of the labour party fraction of Troms state parliament. I eagerly accepted as I was determined to prove myself after my time in Oslo had gone less than brilliantly. This was perhaps the biggest mistake I have made in my life :p One day (I think it was in July '09) during the 6 months I worked a full time job on the campaign AND worked the part time job (50%) on the state parliament (yes I suppose you can do the math here... 100% + 50% = 150%) I suddenly woke up one day and found myself insanely hung over. I though that was weird as I hadn't been out drinking the night before - in fact I hadn't had a drop of alcohol for weeks. The world was spinning, all I wanted was to close my eyes and drift asleep and my thought processes were so slow that I felt like I was retarded. I went to work and found my condition not improving, so in the end I had to go see the doctor. His conclusion was that I had burned out (utbrent) and that I needed to take time off work. I protested wildly, and in the end managed to reduce my "recovery-time" to 1 month off work and to start taking vitamine and iron supplements. The iron helped reduce the dizziness, but I still could not function even remotely as well as I had before the (let's call it) crash (it sure felt like I had crashed). 

I remember one particular incident (If I'm not mistaken it was the day that is depicted in the picture above) where we had an important rally involving a visit by the prime minister, a concert on the town square with one of Norway's most beloved artists Jørn Hoel, a crew of near 100 volunteers under my command handing out roses, balloons, leaflets and waffles and media swirling around us. I force-smiled all day, the rally went off with only minor glitches (like the power to the waffle-irons shortcutting all the time) and by the time everything was packed down and moved into storage I had only a five minute drive to get home. Believe it or not, but I had to stop on the way home and sleep in the car because I was so exhausted and dizzy that it wasn't safe for me to be on the road! 

I saw the election campaign through (and we won, btw ;) hehe) and had my heart set on taking a few weeks off to recover from the stress. Only, as a single mum (yes, still) I needed an income higher than what the 50% job as a state level politician could provide. So I took a part time job (50%) as a secretary for a local gymnasium association starting three days after my campaign manager job had ended. Now I'm not sure where optimism turns into pure stupidity, but I think it must be somewhere around where I was at the time :p lol

If you've ever been unfortunate enough to get the diagnosis "burned out" (utbrent), you'll know that recovering from it is a slow process... If you haven't, I understand that it can be difficult for you to relate to what I'm telling you, because unless I had experienced it first hand, I wouldn't have been able to understand what it's like. Either way, as you can probably predict - things didn't really go well from here on :p Working 100% and having to care for a (fabulous) kid as well as yourself when you're sick is not possible. My though processes were soooooo slow at this time that thinking on your feet was impossible (a bad trait for a politician), I second guessed every decision and statement I issued, and grew more and more paranoid as I noticed that people around me were aware of my "weakness" and started undermining me in my work. All I ever wanted to be was perfect, and everything I had worked so hard for all these years were collapsing under my feet. The whole story of these months (and of my refections on a decade in the harsh world of politics) is maybe one I'll tell you some other day (or maybe I'll never be strong enough...), but in April 2010 I finally realized that I couldn't go on like this any more. By then I had had my third proper mental crash, and even the simple day-to-day things like cooking dinner and showering had become monumental tasks that nearly made me cave under the pressure. April 28th 2010 I went to the doctor and got a statement saying that I was temporarily unfit to work (sykemelding). That was the last day I was involved in politics.

Me and Gabriel - The light of my life. July '10

Of course, being the stubborn, stupid girl I am, I still tried hanging on to my part time job as a secretary at the gymnasium association. I hadn't really known of anyone close to me ever being in the situation that I was in, and I wanted to fight "failure" as hard as I could. What I probably should have done was stop fighting myself and allow myself to recover, but that is thinking retrospectively. By then I worried that everything I touched would crumble to dust and that I would never amount to anything. My marriage... My education... My career.... And surely, in January 2011 I quit my secretary job, accepting that I could not meet their expectations. For the record: I WAS doing my job (!!), I just couldn't manage to have fixed working hours at the office, and my superiors interpreted that as me ditching work. It was tough times, and I cried a lot.

I wanna digress a little and say how much I love my family. I have a son, a mum, grandma, sisters, brothers, dad and stepmum who all are absolutely fantastic! Before April '10, all my close friends had been my political comrades, and after I quit, I also severed all contact with them. Some of them I still miss, but it was physically impossible for me to stay friends with people that so immensely reminded me of all the factors that caused my illness. So my family took over the hole that was left when I abandoned my previous life, and I can never thank them enough for being there for me when I could not be there for myself. 

For six months after I quit politics, I got sick and threw up if I heard there being a political debate on TV. For a whole year I couldn't watch the news without getting an anxiety-attack. I still to this day don't read or get involved in political statements in the newspapers or online. I had no (!!!) short term memory and needed three trips to the local supermarket to be able to remember all the ingredients to spaghetti and meatballs in tomatosauce. And we're talking a ready-made sauce where you only need to apply water and stir. Everything needed to be written down on lists. "Remember to call mum". "Remember to buy toilet paper". "Remember that you have a doctors appointment". I had alarms on my phone so that bedtime for my kid wouldn't pass me by. I forgot about paying bills and changing tires on my car. It was a life I wouldn't have wished for anyone. It's hard to describe it in a way that will make you understand, but it was kinda like having taken a sleeping pill and feeling so drowsy that you could hardly realize what was going on around you. It went on forever, and it sucked :/

Sign at the Bukta Festival. They don't know how right they are

I was sleeping 14-17 hours a day. All night. All day. And a nap in the afternoon. In August 2010 Gabriel started school, and it turned out to be a struggle to manage to time my sleep pattern (or lack thereof) so that he got to school in time. I still have problems with that.

A few of the key things my doctor instructed me to do was to exercise, get fresh air and do things that gave me energy in stead of deprive me of it. And since I was feeling like everything I touched fell to pieces, it was vital that I do things that could give me a sense of accomplishment. Now, being the foolish, stubborn and quite thick person I am, the project I decided to undertake to provide energy and sense of accomplishment to my existence turned out to be my most ambitious one of my life! And I owe it to passion, luck, prepwork, skills I've picked up in politics, my sister Therese and family/friends that it became a positive turning point in my life rather than another failure. The project I talk of is Dreamcatcher <3

I've always loved music! I've sung, played, listened, danced and felt my life enriched by music since I was a little baby not being able to fall asleep unless my grandfather played the accordion by my bedside. And I've always wanted to be a part of a musical community, only I've never known quite how, or where to start. I had some connections to the singer-songwriter-community in London through a series of coincidences, and had lang been wishing and wanting to be a more active part of it. 

Me and Therese

Dreamcatcher gave me everything I needed at the time, me and my sister Therese working side by side on making this dream come true. I was forced to leave the sofa and relate to people outside my family. I had to deal with some of my issues and train my brain back to function again. I could deal with people who knew nothing of my past "failures" and therefore wouldn't judge me, but take me as I am. I could make new friends. I didn't have to pretend to be perfect anymore either, and I had a new best friend in my sister - who knew all my flaws and accepted me and loved me still. Who would have thought... ;) In August 2010 we launched our first night of a series of gigs especially designed to promote up and coming artists. We thought we'd do it for six months, but as I'm writing this more than two years later, it's still going on, stronger than ever. A dream come true, indeed! We shared the work between us perfectly. I did whatever my illness didn't object to me doing, and Therese did the rest. And slowly but surely I noticed progress in my condition. 

It is now October 2012, and I'm still struggling with my illness. I still have an overwhelming (and sometimes unexpected) need for sleep, but I've learned a lot about what triggers it and can plan better for when I'll need to set aside extra hours to rejuvenate. I also seem to be able to recognize most of the factors that trigger anxiety-attacks, and can proudly say that through self-imposed exposure-therapy and meditative techniques acquired at the gym, I'm much tougher than I was a year ago. But there are still times when the anxiety washes over me and takes control. Just not as often as before. I still feel ashamed that I'm not perfectly healthy, and I'm pushing myself not to create "cover-stories" to hide what actually happened when my mind fucks up my intentions of functioning like other people. And I've finally succumbed to the realization that I need therapy and am thrilled to be in treatment! 

This is the long and intricate truth, and I thought you all should know about it. We all have stuff we need to deal with in life, and this has become a life-altering thing for me. That's why it feels good not to keep quiet about it anymore :) 

All Good Things... 

I don't know if I still believe that I'll ever be 100% healthy again (even though my doctor, therapist and family and friends tell me I will), but I've realized through experience that you can fight your way back from a pretty fucked up state of mind, and I intend to keep on making progress. I have my amazing family around me who help me with the things I still can't handle on my own, and a better network of loved-ones around me than I've ever had in my life. I have the award-winning Dreamcatcher on my CV, proving to myself that I'm not a complete failure, and it keeps on giving me personal victory after personal victory - and has convinced me that I wanna work within music and dreams-come-true-making for (probably) the rest of my life. It's been weird being in the papers as much as I have these part couple of years with Dreamcatcher - portraying a person who has everything under control, when sometimes a mere press-conference results in me being superdizzy and needing to sleep for  hours! At the same time, I don't feel that it's been a lie. Dreamcatcher has been the best treatment for my illness so far. And Dreamcatcher has had everything under control. And I've been just as passionate and excited about it as I have been when meeting with the press - and everyone else involved along the way. 

Now that I've told you about all of this, I can keep updating you on how it's going, as there are both ups and downs to my "road to sanity" hehe. The latest thing that has happened is that I've been given the all clear from my doctor to start looking for a (very-)part-time job testing out my abilities :D This comes with clear restrictions to make sure I don't experience another mental burn out, but it's a huge step in a direction towards "normality" (whatever that is). I'm super excited!

Climbing

And now I'm gonna round off the story for now. This is me. In the chaotic tree that is my mind. I'm climbing towards the life I want to live, having to dodge branches that seem to be getting in the way. Sometimes I lean on one and it breaks from under me, causing me to hurt. Sometimes I thought I was on the right path but have to readjust my course and take a few steps back down. It's not always pretty, but I keep climbing, and keep looking for a way to reach the top of the tree. I'll have scrapes and bruises once I get there, but I know the view from the top will be well worth the effort! 

Liselotte x 

Accessorizing My Mind

I love music! Ok, that's no bombshell, but I seriously do. I love the way it moves me. The way it shapes my thoughts and emotions and transports my mind to somewhere it wasn't before I pressed "play".

Artists own picture

For instance - if I'm getting ready to go our with my girls one of the best songs I can accessorize my mind with is "I'd Rather Die" by maltese artist Carrie Haber (that is, until she releases her song "If Time Won't Wait" - at which point I'll be a superhappy bunny, skipping between the two at rapid pace). If you don't yet know about the talent that is Carrie Haber, I suggest you get a move on. She's fab!

Other times, songs can mirror your inner fears, desires or worries. And more than once have I felt my own floodgates open (yeah I am a softie, I know) when the lyrics of a certain song seems like it was written about me and my life story.

The song "Fools" by Lauren Aquilina is one of those songs - dealing with the uncertainties of opening yourself up to someone special. We all have our stories, baggage and scars in life, and for me it's insanely good to have the songs to deal with it as well. --->

Another song that has meant a lot to me, speaks about our irritating inability to see the good in ourselves. It annoys me greatly that society teaches us to focus more on our flaws than on our strengths, and as I'm typing now I feel myself getting so worked up that I'm gonna put a cork in it and save the long rant for another blogpost.

<--- This is a bloke named Gary Go. And this song "Wonderful" should be an integral part of any  prescription-pad! It's a miracle-cure, I tell 'ya. I know that if I managed to tell myself this every morning, my outlook on life would be radically different to what it is on a regular basis. 

Hmm... Maybe that's what I should do... Mount an IPad (donations are more than welcome...) to the bathroom mirror and have it play this song to me when I brush my teeth every day at 8am?

And let's take this one step further. After you've started your day confirming that you are wonderful, why not continue with telling yourself to follow your dreams?

How can it hurt to tell yourself that you can be anything you want? For my own part, life is a lot more fulfilling now that I've started dedicating it to making my dreams come true. I know these guys who are in a band called The Dunwells. ---> They're incredibly talented and unbelievably hard-working. The first time I saw them play I thought they were sooo good - and little did I know that it was possible for them to get even better. They are one of those rare bands that just get more breathtaking with each gig they do. 

They're currently touring their asses off adding fuel to the sparks that have earned them a record-deal in USA. They also recently appeared on Jay Leno (Tonight Show), and I can tell you one thing: There were a lot of us who have been following them from the start, who shed a tear with pride for how far they've come on their journey. And just imagine what lies ahead of them! I think they must be the kind of people who has an "I Am Wonderful"-stamp on their mirror, and who keeps telling themselves that they're worth the effort of pursuing their dreams! The song "I Could Be A King"certainly inspires me to do it.

And so for tonight I'm signing off.

Love you all.

King Liselotte ;)