I’ve thought about starting a blog for a while. I’ve even tried on Tumblr before, but I always end up getting insecure. Now this is different.
Not really. I know that. But I feel like it is and I think I’m finally at a place where I can do this, because I’ve finally reached the point where I don’t really care if anyone would find this important or not. That is a big thing for me.
So why make a blog? You do that because you have something you want to tell people, right? Sure. I do. I have all these kinds of white girl problems and those are exactly what I’m going to write about. This is my first post on this blog and this will just be a bit about me and what my story is. It’ll just be a long rambling of my schools, I guess.
That’s who I am. A white girl living in a small country. It’s almost illegal to say, but I love this country. I hate its politicians. I hate its weather. I hate how certain demographics of this small place are small-minded. But the country is great. I tend to hope that we are great as a people too, but I know I would be pushing it if I tried to claim that.
I’ve went to 4 different schools and when I look back at it they were all great. In the first one I learnt that people are different and that you can stay out of drama if you’re being real with the people you hang out with. Seriously. I remember so much drama, but I don’t really remember how it all started. I was never really part of it, but for some reasons my friends were always fighting. I think we all ended school as friends though, when we had to depart to different schools at, like, age 12.
Then I moved from tiny-town school to a slightly-less-tiny-town school. I think I was kind of an outsider there, but I never really felt that way. Again, I managed to avoid most of the drama even though I, again, watched my friends fight all the time. I guess that’s what we do as teenagers: fight. I hated PE, German and Maths, loved Religions Studies (It was just called Christianity, but we learned about different religions as well) and Danish (it was the same teacher for those subjects.. Maybe it had something to do with her). All my classmates did sports, I stopped playing football.
Then, at age 16, we were done. It was the best. I remember I really hated everything about that school back then. I hated the teachers, the students, the town, the parking lot (I really did hate that parking lot for some reason).
In the summer of 2011. Little girl Lind, age 16, started her year in Boarding School. In Denmark it’s quite common to take a year in boarding school. I learned so much that year. First of all I finally experienced what my social limit is. It was a terrible experience, but I’m glad I had it. I meant that I now know when to draw back and shield myself from the world. I also learned that playing music (an interest and hobby I’ve had since I was a toddler, really) is not necessarily just about “what sounds good”. It’s just as much about personal development as everything else. At least that’s how I look at it now. Thanks for that.
Then came High School. In Denmark that’s usually 3 years of school where you usually choose 1-2 main subjects. Mine were English and Music and I’d like to say it was the best. I still don’t know if it was, but I enjoyed it. I think my class was always struggling a bit. I’m not sure why, but for some reason we had a tendency of dragging each other down. It wasn’t because we were all lazy or depressed or anything, but often there was a bit of a “slow”(in lack of a better word) vibe. I liked my class though and I think I’ll remember them way longer than I’ll remember any other class I’ve belonged in.
Well. Now it gets a bit more serious. When I say High School was the school that broke me down, it’s not because I’m actually that broken. But it is a fact that I was way more confident and strong when I started than when I finished.
The first year was okay. It was fun and it would also have been quite easy if only I’d studied more. The second year was when I began struggling. I guess I struggled right from the start (a lot of the people in my class did), but it wasn’t until further into the year I finally cracked.
“You seem strong and energetic.” My biology teacher (who was also out contact-teacher) told me that in a conversation how things went. I remember so clearly how a few seconds passed and then I started crying. I don’t know if it was the first time since I started high school, but before that I definitely didn’t cry a lot. The year went on though and even though things didn’t get perfect again, they got better.
Third year was the hardest. I started out the year with a mild pneumonia and then just as I started getting better I got another one. When I look back at the third year of high school I really only remember me being more or less ill (when I think about it, it was probably my stress-levels destroying my immune system). I got tired of school, tired of my hobbies, tired of my friends. I started talking to our school’s psychiatrist, but it was shit (not because she was bad.. I can’t say if she was or not).
And there’s no need to go into further details. I was definitely not the one struggling the most. And I made it. I ended the school year and partied my brains out with the rest of the graduates in the summer of fucking ’15.
Well. It would be cool to be able to tell the story of how I found meaning in life then, but I haven’t really gotten any further than that. I’m still looking for a job, trying to make enough money to travel somewhere far away and stay there for a while.
I’ve kinda learned to play the clarinet though. I suck at it, but at least I know what I’m doing while I murder simple classical songs.
So that was a shitload of my background. Only the boring part that probably doesn’t really say a lot about me, but hey. Maybe someone I know reads it and recognize that it’s me. Or at least recognize that they know me. Who knows, right?