Viktoria Aksnes

“I can only be happy when I control everything.”

I started thinking this morning.. because I’ve been (I’m painfully aware of) having so many good days, I dare say weeks! It’s been utterly, totally wonderful. In my zone, in my cave -don’t remember last time I had to go to the shops -it’s like I’ve been living in one of those shelters or panic rooms built in case of natural disasters or a chemical explosion leaving the air toxic or whatever would force us underground to survive. And it just hit me, how fragile it is, when all of the rest of the world and its inhabitants can at any given moment barge in and destroy it.. this oasis, this perfected peaceful worry free environment I so carefully have constructed around me to protect myself.

I love those movies, where she goes on a spiritual journey, try to learn something about the universe or herself. Maybe it’s through a walk in the Wild, a trip with eating, praying and loving, a new life under the Tuscan sun.. She either learns something, about her self, where she was and where she needs to go. Her relationships. Grieves. It might be fleeing awareness, or it really sinks in and affects her for the rest of her life. She ends up with a knot pulled tighter anyways. A sense of calm, an answer. Love also has the tendency to creep in there. Seal the deal. Make sure we truly get the fact (and the punchline); she’s happier now..! I refer to this abstract character as she simply cause it’s more relatable to me.

But the rest of them, they take nothing from their experience except the full knowledge that they were happy before. They go home to find that life is messy. And that’s ok. Beautiful even. And her family do appreciate her (cause the little one drew a picture while she was gone and her husband really is the love of her life cause he..remembered something! I don’t know, but he’s the one yet again, imperfect as he may be). It’s really uplifting! Because life is messy. And the challenge is to accept that and dance along with it. That’s the whole point, really.

I really want to be her. We all do, right? Either to find a path.. Or realize we already did.

Right now it feels like I had to choose. The life alone, with no one to destroy my day. My routine and plans. No family, no husband, no children, no animals. No no-one to set me off. Make me go painful in my stomach.. Fuck. I’m hurting on my insides today. Because of nothing. An interruption. A step outside. I feel like I have to choose from up there or down here. Up there. Fully exposed, pains on the outside, emotional highs and lows, close relationships, messy!, laughter tears, food and wine and friends and late nights, feeling tired! sleeping in working hard -celebrating. Or down here. Facilitated. Safe. Predictable. With a system. You taketh and give back, there are rules and when crossed punishment awaits.. It makes so much more sense down here. I feel happier down here. Life up there is so painful.

Yet, happiness lives up there. Love lives up there. We’re supposed to be up there. To love and to hurt, fail and succeed. WE’RE SUPPOSED TO DEAL WITH IT -it’s life! Just life.

What about us that feel like we can’t? Not on the outside looking in, wanting to be part of it. More like a former participant leaving the party early without telling anyone. To go home. To facilitate. To be safe in his predictable system he’s created. Not knowing if or when he’ll join the party again. With the reassurance that he can. He can choose.

All I know right now is I want to go back to my happy place again. With so much work and stitches yet to sew I simply can’t afford the cost of life.

Good morning!!!

I LOVE it when I wake up just before the alarm goes off <3 It’s a magical thing and something that I’v been #totallyblessed with all week.

I’m (still) in a really good work-mood. I’ve currently built a wall between myself and the great outside. Which is okey since outside is in a cloud and you can’t see anything.

Which this one’s giving me an attitude about.

That should probably live inside..

I really am horrible at taking care of mah green friends.

But! When one has a fashionshow coming up, three weeks to be exact, one has other priorities. That, plus I’m so occupied with me, myself and I and never aware of anything or anyone but myself.

That’s not entirely true, but a great excuse I tell myself nonetheless. I think the world would be a better place if everyone would focus more on the way they meet the world and less about judging others. I chose to meet the world with great fear and anxiety for instance. So, you know, find your own thing but do it with commitment and awareness.

That was basically the thought of the day. I have nothing else. Have a great day! If you’re being productive and perfect like myself, or just laying on the sofa wishing you’d never woken up. Wherever you find yourself in that range of current states; I salute you -do it with commitment and remember that tomorrow is Friday. After all.

A while ago one of my close friends questioned my diagnosis as bipolar. Or maybe not question, but I find no other way to interpret this person’s words and eyes. The person attended to explain why I might be feeling the feelings that I did, experience what I experience, hell -the person also had alternative solutions!

 I did not think too much about this odd conversation. This person is warm and, seemingly I’d say, understanding of others struggles. Plus this person was fairly drunk (and who am I to judge a person rambling after a drink too many?) and probably didn’t mean what it (we’ll call it it) was saying.

But then it happened again. Different it. This time I had a problem with. Maybe my biggest problem with it was my own reaction. I wanted to be cool about it, this person obviously doesn’t know what it is talking about and obviously needs to move to an island and live alone forever since it’s apparently unable to relate and have empathy towards other hoomans.

It was embarrassing how strongly the need manifested itself in my whole defense-system. So I tried to cut my head off of my body in an attempt to distance myself, protect my body from these thoughts I had flooding in.

Because my body knows. My body remembers every time. And my body didn’t deserve this doubt. My body remembers the feeling before it properly hits me. The weight of the rocks that grows inside of me and I realize I’m entering a state of feeling depressed (I’m really really really careful calling it suffering from depression and always say I’ve only had two proper depressions in my life. Don’t abuse this word). My body sees itself from the outside as my sense of awareness and logic thinking drifts away and leave me self-centered and broken with grief. It’s heartbreaking as I realize it’s happening again. I prepare my body to experience sheer hate and the the feeling of wishing to die for the next period of time. I remind it it’s not real and that it must not listen.

Don’t you dare take this in, body. Not for one second.

My body feels less social anxiety. Not that it’s allowed to leave the house as much. But it has no time for others thoughts.

And then one day it let’s go. I suddenly feel normal. With normal tantrums and problems, my familiar anxiety, my beloved ed never left obviously, my normal self-doubt, my normal work-ethics, I actually care!!, self-awareness of what others think of me, normal ups and downs, days of socializing and days when I don’t want to see anybody, some distance from what I’ve been feeling the last few weeks, some repair-work for that, really good days, self-acceptance and looking into my husband’s eyes looking for understanding for what’s been going on the last weeks. Which he always does.

And then there’s the superstar days. Where I just can’t keep up with myself. I want to do it ALL! I have no issues. I’m beautiful and have the power to achieve ANYTHING I set my mind to! I can’t stand still, my heart’s beating faster than normal, my sentences can’t form properly because my mind has already wandered to the next thought. My body is shaking of excitement, it simply cannot WAIT for what’s to come and needs to express EVERYTHING it’s experiencing. I take risks, I’m not sensitive to others emotions, I’m rude, I’m more sexual, I drink EXCESSIVLY to celebrate this AMAZING FEELING, I want to LOVE and live for these days, but the next day or two I sober up and the hangover is unlike any hangover alcohol can cause. It’s just not worth it.

There’s a big chance you don’t know how this feels.

(Unless obviously you’ve been or not yet been diagnosed the same, then I’m so sorry for you).

And I know we’ve shared, friend, days where you just didn’t know what the fuck went on last night. Did I just black out? Did I do drugs? Why was I dancing in the streets in my bra? Why was I so mean and pushed all your vulnerable spots to make you cry?

“She was probably just drunk, she has been a bit down lately. Stressed out? She has some demons, though..”

It’s a fine line and sadly very difficult to tell the difference in my generation and younger (because we’re all allowed to an ok with being open about our mental issues) between rebelling and the occasional blackout, and serious mental health problems.

Don’t be that person to undermine the one with serious mental issues.

Be like my other friend. Who sends me a text from the other side of the country telling me that I’ve read about it, can’t necessarily relate to it, and I think you are strong as fuck! You’ve been through wars. And the rest of us cannot even tell.

I had a photoshoot in ma bed and ma bathroom to illustrate and make visual my emotions around this topic.

You like? This is me on a normal day.

Absolutely nothing to do with bragging about the fact that I wore this turtleneck to a job-related meeting!!!

So proud. So sweaty. TURTLENECK!!! Number one garment to instigate blushing from attention leading to total panic and don’t giving a fuck about what’s happening -I NEEDS TO GET OUT! But I nailed it. Blushed once but regained control.

Normal.

A woman I know who has a very special space in my heart, and she has this space entirely on her own, said to me not long ago something like this:

“People were just drawn to you growing up. There’s something about you, everybody was in love with you.”

I don’t remember if these were her exact words, but down that line definitely. It was just the most peculiar beautiful thing I’d ever heard. And I grabbed it, took it in immediately.

I thought I was special once. When I was five. I specifically told my mother and our neighbors that I was, nay, knew I was special and was gonna do great things. GREAT things. I knew something everybody else did not. I didn’t know what exactly, but something..

This feeling sort of stuck for a while. Then it begins to fade. It looses small pieces and remembrance along the way. A little chunk getting yelled at in second grade for not being quiet. BIG chunk the day you walked into high school your first day. Alone. Insignificant. First time blushing. Getting your period on your final exams and therefore forced to leave early without having the courage to say why. Nobody looking up when arriving, nobody noticing when you left. You slowly realize you’re not special. You’re just like the rest of them. And you imagine you start disappointing the people who once looked up to you, like you yourself once did, because you’re only human. You’re like everyone else trying to hide that you too once had more pieces.

And then somebody from your past says something. Something that you first meet with laughter, suddenly touches you. The truth you’ve been holding on to for so many years, and now use to shield yourself from getting too excited, being vulnerable, believing what others tell you. Because your own truth tells you they’re lying. But this compliment, I haven’t received anything like it. And she stated it like a fact. Like something I should’ve obviously known?? But strangely enough I took it in. Could’ve been the champagne-haze or the rain ten centimeters from our stools on the paved sidewalk, but I took it in as mine and kept it.

I got somewhat reminded of this this weekend. Not necessarily that I was special to all of the human race (come on..), but that I was at least special for some. There are some people that saw you in a different way than yourself at that time when you started loosing your chunks. The most vulnerable of times that define you more than you wish, and now only feed your fears.

I’m not feeling very well today. You can tell, can’t you? So I’m, in my head, literally picking up those pieces. Not the crumbles, only the biggest ones. I matter. I’m noticed. I’m important. I am kind -and that matters more than my paycheck. Or my reflection of myself. I am beautiful.

I am good, more importantly I have done good. At least by some. I’m worth loving. By many! (I’ve never doubted you Vegard) I am one of a kind, and can do great things. Things no one else can ! I am Viktoria Lutterloh Aksnes, and I am special.

This also include me running home to my mum and not working for the rest of the day. But that’s fine?

After all, I am only five.

I can’t believe it’s over. Even though I’m fairly ready to grab 2017 by the pussycat, I’m already looking forward to next christmas. But I won’t get too excited, I know it would be a verrry long year.

Here’s a little bit (apparently we only had about 5 people at the party…?!), and I never remember to take pictures when I’m doing.. anything fun really, from how we did New Years eve.

We hosted, because we’re married now and supposed to act like adults, our first New Years eve dinner. The stick-meat. And it was grrreat success. All though I learnt a thing or two for the next.

Again; too busy to photograph the people around the table who definitely made the whole dinner, without my loved ones. Jokes, I made the dinner. The other one.. also. He did actually.

This one, Lisa, was definitely the only one wearing an outfit totally worthy of the occasion.

Not that I didn’t feel like a warrior-queen myself (or the rest of us) in my recently received vintage kimono, but obviously everyone had too much fun to take pictures of the rest of us. Plus Instagram seems to think my blog is about the little one and not me. Joking, it is about her.

No, in all seriousness, though; it is about me. IT’S ALL ABOUT ME! MHEMHMHEE!

But we’ll never know about the rest of us. All we can do is trust  my words. We were all fabulous.

But these two in particular.

And after ALL of this photographing I did on my too short of a break that put a stop to me raising (I know you can’t say raising, but what was I supposed to do) my glass topped with champagne, I had a great night. And we all found ourselves dancing, when we were all seeing stars and had no business going that low, to Kanye and into the new year. Filled with more disasters. And one can only hope, more disastrous dancing.

So now I’m just working really hard (in my head at least) to get extremely excited about the year to come. And there are many exciting things ahead. We launch our Fårikål brand, farikal.com, and showpiece collection (designed by myself) inspired by traditional Norwegian craftsmanships. My little one has so much exciting in front of her which I hope to be able to support and be part of as much as possible. We’re going on our honeymoon.. So it shouldn’t be too hard. If it turns out to be I’ll obviously demand a haste-appointment with my psychologist. Since it obviously means I’ve given up on myself and life.

BUT! I doubt it.

And I already had a great start of doing new things. I hate going to the movies and have already been in 2017. Rogue One. Obviously brought wine in thermos (because we’re forced to because Norway is so conservative and won’t serve anything at the movies).

So dis how we do the movies now.

For what it’s worth.. I must say, because my blog tends have an agenda of it’s own and makes me sound like a self-doubting designer / dysfunctional alcoholic. I am not. Just a smidge. Most of the Days of my life, and I know it seems Oh so glamorous ! and fun all the time

….

I’m mostly in my sweatpants (who am I kidding; pajamas) binge-watching series on Netflix in my candle-lit cave with my husband -scared shitless of what lies ahead, who am I kidding; outside of my very doorstep, like the rest of the world. And like Frodo we all share the same questions and concerns.

How does one go on, when in our hearts we begin to understand there is no going back?

We will take the ring (?) to Mordor. Though we do not know the way.

There is no promise you can make that I can trust.

What about second breakfast..?

An last. But not least:

There is some good in this world, and it is worth fighting for.

Namaste. I have to go be extremely excited about something.