I got this motherfucking cough a few days ago. That same night I was stupid enough to have a so called big night. Stayed up late. Got drunk. Got fucked up. Called my bike a kitchen. You know one of those nights. Went to work, call center talked, went home, crashed. Woke up the next morning with absolutely no voice and the cough was horrible. It has been 3 days since I decided to go inte silence, because I CAN'T TALK. My vocal chords are fucked.  If I try talking, an airy whisper comes out. 
So here it is:
I work at a call center. So I can't work. I can't talk. I shouldnt even be whispering because it damages the vocal chords.
One of the worst parts with not having a voice is the fact that I'm stuck with my thoughts inside me head. I can't really get invovled in any discussions. I can't join in when I feel I have something to say. I just sit there. Sure I can use a paper and pen and write what I want to say, but seriously? Have you ever tried that? I have, and it takes FORfuckingEVER to write compared to just talking. By the time I have finished writing we've probably already dropped that subject and started to talk about something totally different. 
I can't answer polite greeting phrases, so people in stores and my flat mates' friends probably think I'm rude and weird. They say hello, I wave and smile. They ask how I am, I thumbs up them and smile and nod at them. They say bye and have a nice day, I point at them and then make the peace sign (like saying You 2) wave and smile. Retarded.
My friends are used to being around a talkative and louder Elin, but now I'm just silent. So of course they ask me like 1000000 times "Are you ok?". In my mind I'm thinking: NO I AM NOT FUCKING OK. I CAN'T FUCKING TALK, YOU FUCK. But I nod, smile, point at my throat and make an ugly face. And I have to remind them once again about the fact that my voice is still M.I.A. 

The only "good" thing with not having a voice is that for once I am pretty silent in bed while fucking,
so no neighbors are complaining. For now.

Number of cups of swedish coffee I have left: 3
Number of I can't talks: 3
Number of smiles: 4
Number of fucks: 6
Number of actual fucks: 1
Number of fucks given: 0
Another big night which cost me my voice. 


I remember 2013. I remember the 31 of december 2013, to be more exact: 23.59
And the clock strikes 00.00. 2014 has started and 2013 will never happen again. I remember how much tears I cried that new years. 2013 was the worst year of my life filled depression and anxiety, and finally it was over. I cried because of complete happiness and relief. 2013 was forever over and it was finally time to start a new chapter without this past year's depressed Elin. Without sleepless nights and days spent in bed. 2014 was going to be different and if 2013 was the worst year, well, it could only get better. 
And now, we've past yet another New Years and it is 2015. There has been ups and downs like always but I am happy to say that 2013 still remains the worst year of my life. Special thanks and shout out to all my friends who helped me out of my misery :)

This has happened since my last blog post: Went to California for some sunshine and dad. Came to the conclusion that I did not want to spend summer in Sweden. Booked a one way ticket to Amsterdam. Went back to Sweden, packed my bags, said good bye to my sweet ex and fled the country a month later.  In Amsterdam I made beds and cleaned toilettes at The Flying Pig Hostel. Best job ever! I lost my voice,  my bag, my cards, my passport, my laptop and virginity all over and over again. After 3 very intense months of living, eating, drinking, drinking, sleeping, pooping and masturbating, it was time for me to move out of the hostel. To Mr Emtuiz Creepy Guy, he creeped me out so much that after a month at his place i fled. That month I spent only 100 euros for food, drinks, bike and bike lock. My friends let me crash at their place and at last we found a new place. 
Now it is 2015. I have the best second family one could ever ask for. Friends and memories I will never forget. I have two jobs, my bike is still working (minus the shitty breaks) and I live together with my good friend with benefit. It's not weird at all; we have great sex, cook awesome meals, and we get along really well... except when I'm hungry. Hungry = I become a crying bitch. Sorry. 
My plan was to stay 3 months in this beautiful city, and I have been here 7 months. So things are going well. Even though it feels like I sometimes have the world and my wisdom tooth against me, I am alive. I am strong. My butt is bigger. My life is exciting and lovely. And it is everything 2013 wasn't. 
TL;DR It's been a good year. And I am still in Amsterdam

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