Talk to me (Poetry)

Talk to me

Your disregard hurts me.
I thought we were friends.
My heart is scarred,
it can’t take another wound.

Communication is the key.
Where shall I know,
what’s your problem
if you don’t

Talk to me.
I tried being a good friend.
But I can’t read your mind.
Talk to me,

In the past,
you made me feel welcome.
Giving me advices
and care,

that I was seeking,
from a good friend.
Talk to me,
tell me what has changed.

My scarred heart bleeds,
over a lost friend.
If you would just
talk to me
and heal my wounds.

Lost Boy (Poetry)

Lost Boy

All the years
I’ve been left out.
As if I were invisible.
I didn’t count.

My attempt to belong
was never heard.
“You can’t do that with us. You’re a girl”-
like a knife in my heart, it hurt.

I’ve seen you with your “bro’s”.
Jealous and sad,
these friendships
I never had.

Halloween in Hel (backview 2014)

CN Suicide mention

I haven’t talked about this event yet although it was one of the most formative ones that helped me to become the person I am today. Thanks to my almost photographically memory I still remmeber it with much details.
A week before my trip, I was talking with one of my finnish friends in messenger, mentioned that I thought I was transgender. When I was the first time in Helsinki in 2013 I lived for 10 days with her and her mum. So we spent much time together and she told me that I could talk about everything with her. After I told her I got no reply. Just a day before my flight she messaged me back telling me she had “internet problems” and how she was looking forward to meet me soon. We wanted to meet up in this bar where my musician friend would be DJing. I don’t talk about him much because some fans have accused me of lying. Well, I couldn’t care less. I know what happened.
So I was at the bar a bit early so I took a table, waiting for my friends to appear. The night got later and my female friend didn’t show up. I texted her but got no reply. She had let me down. I was pissed. If she had a problem with me being trans, she could have just told me. But she pretended to looking forward seeing me and leaving me there hurt. (This night when I was back at my hotel I came out to all my friends on Facebook. She was the only one who unfriended me and even blocked me!)
My other friend I have noticed in a corner with some of his friends and girlfriend. Since we just barely knew us I decided to stay at my table because I didn’t want to bother him. But he noticed me quickly. When he went to the bar or kitchen, he always stopped at my place to casually chat with me. Every time he passed me, he stopped by to check on me. He noticed that something was wrong. So when it was time for him to start as DJ he stopped by again with his girlfriend on his side, asking me if I want to come with them outside smoking. I thought about my asthma and told him that I needed to go to the bathroom. He told me that I could join their table when I was back so I didn’t had to spent the night alone. Introvert as I am, I still was a bit afraid I would bother him but I choose a table next to theirs.
When the night got later and the bar emptier, he came to me again, asking me if I was ok. I said “yes” but he didn’t believe me so he kept asking if “really everything was ok”. I couldn’t speak. My eyes went to his girlfriend watching us and I decided that it wasn’t the right time to tell him. How could I anyway? At this time, I wasn’t understanding myself if I really was trans and how should I have explained?
I was standing in front of him with tears in my eyes. He saw my inner struggle and did the only right thing to do. He grabbed me and pulled me fast but gently on to his chest, held me in his arms for a long time, caressing my back. I fought the tears and a silent sigh came out of my mouth. I don’t know if he heard it but I don’t care. It was an very emotional moment. Over his shoulder I looked to his girlfriend who was standing on their table, watching us with a light smile and I heard a caring “Aaawww” from her. She was touched too. When he let me out of his arms, he looked me in the eye and told me that I should “take good care” of myself “until we see us next time”. I promised him but he still gave me this big-brother-look so I mentioned that I had promised this already to a dear mutual friend of us both and then he accepted my promise.
During the night there were also a good friend of him who was also a musician. He introduced me to him and mentioned the fanpage I’m running. He thanked me much for doing such a good job. I thanked him back for always caring so much about me. Every time we see he asks what’s going on in my life and how I’m doing. Even if I’m not in good shape, he tries everything to cheer me up. His answer was “Yes of course I care! We’re friends!” I was a bit shocked by his words since we didn’t had deep long conversations yet but I also felt honored that he sees me as friend.
When I was about to leave, I had to take stairs down and stood for a second at the edge. My dear friend, caring as he is, called over to me if I needed his help to get down. I told him it was ok that I just needed time but he kept watching me until I was safe down. So nice!
It was the best decision to spent this night with him. To be honest this time I was very suicidal. I was already thinking about when to kill myself. That’s why I decided to go to Helsinki. I needed distraction from these thoughts. This night I have might lost a friend but I also gained a new better friend. Seriously, if you are reading this some day, your brotherly hug has rescued my life! Without you being so persistent of asking if I really was ok and almost not wanting to let me go, I’m not sure if I still would be alive. Thank you very much. I love you.

I’ll never forget this night.

(I have the feeling I wrote about this once before but can’t find it at the moment)

Edit: If you notice a friend might be suicidal, asking is fine! Like me, they might not be able to talk about their problems, that has nothing to do with that they don’t trust you or something, but it shows them that you care. Although I couldn’t open up to my friend, as much as I wished, but that he hugged me, asked several times and told me to take care, meant so much to me! I felt very lonely and even though friends told me that they cared about me, I thought they are just nice but didn’t really mean it. I haven’t espected him to care so much about me, he completely surprised me with his hug and the kind words. But then I knew, it was true. My friends do cared about me! So if you have a suicidal friend, don’t give up! Tell them, show them as much and as often that you care, how much you care! One day they will believe you.

Music and friends

Some people seem to think that you can’t befriend musicians. I don’t know why they think so. I’ve been friends with musicians since my 20s. When I got into the local punk scene, I’ve met some interesting people, some of them were musicians. They had their band and played gigs. They weren’t really famous but enough in the scene to tour parts of Germany.
When I first met them and started to hang out with them, I felt like I have found my kind of people. I hang around in bars with them, backstage, we talked about music and songwriting. Some nights we were sitting together discussing about lyrics and we helped each other find a solution that would work with a song or a poem. I was home.
The only thing that bothered me was when they confessed me that they had a crush on me. I was seeing them as brothers but they only saw my shell.
Once my girl friend came to me totally excited she told me how the bassist from ‘Loco’ (a local punk band) had a crush on me. I was like “Uhm I know?” She kept on telling me how cool this was that a musician liked me! I didn’t get why this was considered to be special. I knew the guy well. He was a friend and my neighbor.
Being a musician was never something special to me. I don’t mean that I give a shit about their job or that I don’t respect them. I just can’t get why being a musician was considered to be so more special than any other job.
I enjoyed being friends with musicians because I love creative people. Creative people are most often very interesting people.
During my life it seemed as if I was a “rockstar-magnet”. Somehow I always ended up being friends with or becoming the romantic partner of a musician. Every time I was out in bars, some dude would come to me and try to hit on me. Many, many musicians I told that I wasn’t interested. Because I never was interested in that kind of relationship. So it was very resfreshing when in a hot summer night I met a rockstar who treated me like a dear friend. I just got to know about him and his band the day before from a friend, so I just started talking with him about his musician life. We talked about songwriting and tour life, and he recommend a band to me that he was friends with. It was a very nice experience. On both sides. Because it felt like he was happy to finally meet someone who wasn’t going all crazy fangirling about his person. We were just two strangers who shared the love for music.
This fangirly stuff was never my cup of tea. When fangirls put “their stars” on a high podest and praise them like they were gods. Or even worse: when they reduce them and see them only as a sex object and keep telling this to them through social media. This makes me nauseous.
When my Instagram, that is now private, was public, I had some fangirlies follow me who liked the same band as I do. Once I posted a photo of a t-shirt that was given to me by the drummer of our fav band, and she immediately was freaking out over it. “Omg, that is so cool! He gave this to you as a gift? Do you know him personally?” Girl, calm down. I was just at an event, where he and his collague were giving merchandise away. It was just a small ‘Thank you’ from him for the work I do on a fanpage dedicated to him. Nothing special.
Some other incidents happened so I got more and more reserved and almost never mentioned him. Fans always turned it into a weird direction. One girl asked me in a private message “What kind of relationship” I had to him. Or accused me I would “boast” with him being my friend. If people think this, it’s your perspective. Because I don’t put him on a high podest, I treat him as the acquaintance he is. I know that I’m not a close friend, best friend, brother or whatever. But I do know that we are friends. Because he told me and shows me every time we meet.
If you make your favourite musicians into some kind of god, don’t wonder if they see you just as a fangirl rather than a friend that they can trust.

Friendship: It’s not about the amount of time spent together,
but about the quality one shared together. – LJ Meindl

In an older post I talked already about How I define friendship. That it’s not important to speak daily and see each other at least once a week. When you are friends with musicians this isn’t also possible. They are mostly busy, working on new music, recordings, touring. I have friends that I haven’t spoken for over 6 months but once in a while one of us reaches out to the other and just be like “Hey! How have you been?” and we just start talking where we stopped last time. I love that!

Depression is a nasty bitch

Hearing of the suicide of Chester Bennington and the amount of comments I read, triggered me a bit and have made a memory become more present to me. As someone who struggles with suicidal thoughts since I was a teenager, I want to share some thoughts.
Comments like “Why he didn’t seek for help?” and telling suicidal people to reach out for help, it’s not that easy. Depression is a nasty bitch. No matter how often friends show me their support and tell me they will be there for me and listen, depression tells me otherwise.
“They just want to be nice.”
“You bother them with your silly problems.”
“Your problems aren’t that bad. People won’t take you serious.”
“You are a burden to them if you keep crying over your problems.”
And many more stuff, depression always tells me when I feel bad and think about reaching out to someone. This, mixed with the fear, that people anyway don’t want to be my friends, holds me away to reach out.

There were a situation with a friend in 2014. At this time I was very depressed and suicidal to that level that I was already thinking about on how and when to kill myself. My friend were DJ-ing at a bar in Helsinki and I just went over there because I thought it was a good distraction from my thoughts. Actually I wanted to meet another friend there who then let me down and didn’t show up. So I was sitting alone on my table because I couldn’t find my other friend yet. When he came welcoming his other friends, he noticed me and during the night he often stopped by to chat with me. In the end of the night when the bar got more empty, he took me beside to ask me if I was ok. I said yes, because I didn’t want to bother him. He was out with friends and girlfriend and I didn’t want to be annoying. He kept asking me for a whole while if I really was ok but I couldn’t tell him. His girlfriend were watching us and how could I have started talking about such a dark and sensitive topic?
When he noticed that I couldn’t tell him what was up, he embraced me long and tight, and then told me that “everything will gonna be alright again.” He didn’t know what was up, I couldn’t tell him but anyway he wanted to make me feel better. He showed me his support this night, reached me a hand.
Looking back at this situation, I do feel guilty now. For that I haven’t taken his offer and seed for his advice. I’m sorry, I couldn’t open up to him although I kinda wanted to. Not like I didn’t want to, I couldn’t. Not like I didn’t trust you, I just didn’t know how to. And now it feels like I missed my chance and he wouldn’t give me the same offer again.

So, the “reach help” advice might be meant nice but isn’t really helpful for suicidal people whose brain tell them lies. I don’t even know what my friend could have done different to make me be able to open up. Asking one more time, after the thousand times he did already? Asking me directly if we wanted to go somewhere else to talk so we would be alone so other people wouldn’t listen? Maybe that. For now it just feels like I did a huge mistake and that he won’t give me a second chance.

Yeah, depression is a nasty bitch.

Invisible (Poetry)

Invisible

Why don’t you see me?
I’m standing right next to you.
But you talk with your friends
and I am out.

It’s like, I’m invisible.
People see through me;
Pretend, I’m not there.
What can I do,
to be seen and heard?

Your affection never last long.
If you meet someone else,
I am forgotten.
Do I even mean anything to you?

It’s like, I’m invisible.
People see through me;
Pretend, I’m not there.
What can I do,
to be included?

Always I’m left out;
Ever been.
Why? I don’t know.
I just want to belong.

Maybe I’m not made for friends…

This post is kinda an addition to the one I wrote yesterday. The trigger for it was that a friend unfollowed me on instagram. Which is not his blame but it does triggers many things for me.
Ever since when a friend has left me again, I felt like it was my blame. I wasn’t interesting enough, haven’t showed enough what friend meant to me, haven’t shown enough interest in their lives or whatever.
Yesterday I fell in a dark hole again because of this. I feel worthless, boring, just not enough and that no one wants to be my friend anyway. The tactic I taught myself to cope with this: build a wall and be like “Okay, then I don’t want you either. I don’t need you.”
It’s hard for me to trust. Where shall I know that friend is serious with me? I always assume the worst. I was hurt too often.
I always feel like I have to give something special to make someone wanting to be my friend. And I don’t have anything. I can understand it; I am boring. I’m weird autistic and due to my chronic illness, my life is not special or interesting. Why should anyone wants to be friends with me?
I feel like, I want to give up on friendships. To only use social media now to promote my poetry and books. And not any further connections. Because why should I keep trying and getting hurt, when I can’t hold friends anyway?

I know, I actually should work this, but at the moment I don’t see a reason why. What sense does it make? Well, tomorrow I’m at my therapist again. I will talk with him about it.

(It seems I don’t even have spoons to talk about it properly.)

How I define friendship

Lately I had a fight with someone about a topic, that doesn’t matter what it was about, but that person was attacking one of my friends who happens to be a musician. So she didn’t believe that I and the musician were friends because “He never tells about that!”. She got really rude towards me and blamed that it was just all in my head. Well, in my life I’ve always have had been friends with musicians and other people working in music business. Some of them were more or less famous. It is nothing special to me but normal. Of course if you are friends with someone who has a busy job like this, you do not get to talk and see each other that often. That’s why I prefer musicians. They won’t get mad at me if I don’t text them for a while. A while would be a few weeks or months. Even had someone I haven’t talked to for over a year, but he didn’t mind. Because they were busy with touring, recording and private family life. But instead they always are happy about our small talks. Asking how we have been and what’s news.

To the point that he “never mentions”, well, most musicians and especially this friend, are known for keeping their private life private. He only uses his social medias for his job. And of course do famous people also have non-famous friends. So that girl asked me on what our friendship is based on. Most people define friendship about how often they text, talk, see each other. I don’t. For me, someone is my friend if we like each other, have similar interests, our souls kinda connect. It doesn’t matter how often you see them or talk. Every time I see my friend, it’s like we just stopped talking. You do not always need a super close connection with everyone of your friends. In life you will meet many friends. With some you’ll get closer, with others you only talk about one topic. For me, these people are still my friends. It doesn’t matter if they live next to me or on the other side of the world. If we agreed to be friends, yes then we are friends.

Oh and if I happen to talk about them/ mention them in a talk, I do not do this for attention. I just talk about them like I do about my other friends. I’m sorry if you can see them only as “rockstars”. I see them as normal human beings. It’s no big deal!

Lonely boy (Poetry)

All my life
I wanted to be friends
with other boys.
But, I failed.

I was “not manly enough”.
My sweet behaviour
was taken for romantic.
But I only seek for
brotherly love.

‘Cause:

My biological brother disowned me,
my father never cared for me.

I never learned
the “bro code”,
how it is
as a boy among boys.

I never got to experience
to be a silly boy,
to be a dumb boy.
To joke around
and do crazy stuff
late at night.

It looks so easy
when I watch other men
with their friends.
But it’s so complicated;

and I feel so jealous and sad,
I’m excluded.
Always.

Burn out

Dear Diary,

lately it’s so difficult for me to stay in touch with people. It costs me much strength to build sentences in my mind, not only in english but also in my native language german. It gets so slowly like my brain has forgotten how to put letters together to words. To write this article is already so exhausting, but speaking is even worse. I’d like to stay non-verbal for a while but I can’t. I have to talk/communicate with people. Not on a daily basis, because the most time I spend at home, but when I go to physiotherapy or my transgender therapist. I’m stressed out, maybe burned out. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the changes I go through at the moment. I exchanged some furnishings in my home, have two times a week physiotherapy, start transgender therapy in June again, have to do my grocery shopping and to manage my household. For non autistic people it’s daily life, but for me it feels so much. If I would not get help from my mum two times a week I don’t know what I would do.

I feel like I’m constantly in an Overload state. I need to rest and relax but don’t know how. Even working with my special interest is strenuous. All I want to do at the moment is to lock out the world outside, embrace myself and keep swinging my body from side to side.
But I also wanna live my life. I’d like to write some new poetry, to keep practising photography, to learn how to play piano and to sing. But I have no energy to do these beautiful things.

Social contact is the less I can/want to do at the moment. It has always been difficult for me to make friends. No matter how hard I try it seems I always fail on communication. Actually I never had real friends in my life. And currently it feels like I want to give up on it. But I fear if I reduce my social communication now, I will lose some friends. Because that’s the experience I made in life. Every time when I needed time for myself, (and if I say “some time” I mean weeks and months) my friends turned their back on me. When I was doing better and tried to start contacting them again, they were like: “You haven’t talked with me for so long time and now you suddenly want to come back?” or “I’m only interesting for you when you want something”. I tried to explain that’s not about them, but they didn’t understand. That makes me wonder, why am I still trying? Is there anybody out there who can cope with all this autistic shit and give me the space that I need?

Luka

Loner on the road

Tag: friendship