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THE TRAIN WRECK

Oppdatert: 13. okt. 2022


You probably came here expecting witty insight on our world’s most important issues, like WILL Kim and Kanye ever get back together???? Or WHAT is the best song on Taylor’s new album?? (It’s all too well 10 minute version) Maybe you came here hoping I finally pulled myself together and wrote the music blog post that I have been promising for some of you.


Whatever you were expecting, I urge you to turn around now. Today’s post, is my annual, dramatic, hormonal young woman, “my life is falling apart” writing story post. I try and hold out as long as I can on these ones. Ratings totally tank. Your overall respect for me as a member of society drops. Everyone is a little uncomfortable.


But hey, some people like to witness the downfall of others.


I mean, we all watched Britney shave her head. We witnessed Petter Northug and Lindsay Lohan ruin their careers. We said nothing to warn Justin Bieber against assuming Anne Frank “would have been a belieber” had she not died in a nazi concentration camp.

It’s kind of human nature, to stay and watch a train wreck, isn’t it?


That being said, you have been warned. Turn around, go back to instagram stalking Rupi Kaur, pretend you never saw this. Or stay awhile, grab popcorn, and take a shot every time I say “anxiety.” This train wreck after all, is pretty hard to look away from.


I’m in a funk.

You know what, a “funk” isn’t accurate enough. I feel like I’m losing my mind.

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve developed a terrible case of social anxiety.

Me, Sofie Mugaas, the girl who used to show up to everybody’s birthday parties even when uninvited. The girl who would steal the microphone and prance around at the stage in front of lots of people, just to get some laughs. The girl with enough confidence to sneak backstage into a show, fake alter egos and all.... this girl is me. And she’s hiding. She’s still somewhere in there, I think. I really hope she is. But I haven’t seen that girl in awhile. Instead, I’ve become the girl who goes to the grocery store and waits for 20 minutes, trying to get the courage to go inside. The girl who pretends to be talking to someone on the phone as I walk around the streets in constant fear someone will try and talk to me. The girl who makes plans with friends, and later convinces herself it would be a better idea to stay at home in my room all night. That’s who I’ve become! I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I hate it. And my heart is aching to be the girl I used to be.


I came across a post on Instagram recently where it talked about the magic of vulnerability. And I am about as good at being vulnerable as I am good at football. I’m just not. It’s so hard for me to open up. I hate feeling like a burden, or making others feel uncomfortable. I hate being sad in front of people. So, I’ve gotten scary good at acting like I’m perfectly okay, when my world is actually falling apart around me. And to be perfectly honest, I feel like my world is actually falling apart around me.

Never in a million years would I think a good place to start opening up would be to thousands of people on the INTERNET. But something about that post inspired me to write this post.

In the post it talked about how people are often proud of their scars, but never their healing wounds.

It would have been so much easier for me to write this post, months from now when I got my life together. You know, AFTER I had overcome my social anxiety. To show you my “scars.” Like a battle wound. I’d proudly talk about the dark place I was in, and how I finally saw the light. I’d wear my scars with honor, giving you a “how-to” post, filled with my hard times, and how I got through them. I’d talk about my triumphs over my fears and problems, with a repetitive promise that “IT DOES GET BETTER!”

Do you see what I’m saying? No one wants to talk when they’re bleeding and hurting. No one wants to compromise their picture perfect social image and appear weak. We don’t want you to know we’re healing.

But that’s where I’m at right now. I’m healing.

I don’t have the answers and I haven’t fixed my problems. Right now, my life is messy. I’m in the middle of the train wreck. But that is why I decided it is the perfect time to send this post out into the world. Ignoring my fears of harsh judgment and criticism, I’m posting this because I deserve it. The day will come where I’ll post about how I saw the light, and won the battle. That day will come, I’m sure of it. But this is not that post. This is the post I’ll show my future kids someday, when they’re going through something similar. This is my thoughts, and words, during the struggle. And you’re coming along for the ride too. You’re in too deep. No turning back now. Rupi Kaur can wait. We’re in this together.


I always find it reassuring when people I follow on social media talk about their problems. To realize that hot mom Ashley, who drives a G Wagon and goes to brunch with her equally hot mom friends with G Wagons, ALSO gets sad sometimes, and cries at manipulative animal commercials. It’s nice to know that I’m not alone, and these girls who seem perfect also deal with their demons, and bad hair days.


Therefore I feel like I owe it to use my platform to reassure you in the same way, that I am not perfect either.

(pause for laughter)

Here’s the truth.


I started traveling like a crazy woman in 2018, and it wasn’t until when COVID happened, that I began to realize that I was really sad. That had me reminiscing about the past and I noticed a pattern in me that had been going on for years! That is whenever I came home from my trips I would always be sad. This is normal right? That’s what I thought at first, so I self diagnosed it as post-awesome-trip-depression. But during that last year I finally noticed it. And I really wasn’t aware of it until now. I came home from Africa and then COVID existed just some days later. I didn’t leave my house for weeks. I just spent an entire month, with the greatest people, feeling so loved, so on top of the world, and then back to quarantine, to the new real life where I couldn’t go out on the weekends or make plans and that made me anxious. It was awful. So with my next move, I moved back in with my parents. And it helped, it really did. Because I was still dealing with my new found anxiety, but I was able to keep myself busy and excited with my family around me. Does that make sense? I know that keeping myself busy isn’t a good answer to my problem, and I should... I don’t know, face it. But I’m just speaking freely here. Being vulnerable. Keeping it real.

So yes, I’ve dealt with anxiety and depression to some degree for the last couple of years. The only difference to what I’m going through now vs when I’ve been in it before is I knew the why’s before. I know it was triggered by a lot of things that were piling on me in my past. My situations. Like last year COVID triggered it, in January it was because of a breakup and the death of a family member passing away and in late August it was because of a situation I experienced that was life changing for me to say the least. Now I can’t say “ahh, that’s the reason” and I didn’t see the piano falling from the fucking sky, ready to land right on top of me starting from two weeks ago. That and this has gotten really scary. Guys, I literally don’t leave my little student room. My level of isolation rivals spongebob when he made friends with the used napkin and the half eaten potato chip so he wouldn’t have to face the outside world. I mean I’m not that pathetic. My friends are much more substantial. (My laptop, Netflix, The cast of The Office. Okay, it’s pretty pathetic.)

And to round it out, I’m overly sensitive. Like, craaaazy sensitive. Sassy is one of the words mom will describe me as, but I’ll probably burst into tears if you would unfollow me on Instagram.

So the combination of being incredibly sensitive, anti social, but also lonely and constantly craving people around me, is a disastrous one. Here’s an example.

Last week, I forced myself out of my room to go to my Spanish class. Now, you guys have to understand. On that day I had my favorite teacher and my favorite class to go to. I would sell my first born child, to have Sandra (my teacher) to continue being my teacher for the rest of the year. I simply love her. But even in the morning before my class I was thinking of every excuse not to go. And this was my FAVORITE Spanish class! It was my freaking social anxiety kicking in! I was so upset with myself. I did my best to shut out the voice telling me to stay in my room, and I went anyway.

My friend had saved a good spot for me in class *apparently the best spot in class* I arrived 5 minutes before it started (and that is me arriving early.)


This caused quite a few problems.


C-ALEEEEAAAARRRRR-LYYYYYYYY I was not a *good student* because I hadn't been there 20 min before the class started. Yes. 20 min. As in 20 min before the class started. As if we were about to witness the second coming, and wanted a front row spot to meet Jesus himself.

I should have known better. Within minutes this particular angsty teenager yelled amongst the crowd "It’s a rule here that you can’t hold seats.” *points at me while calling me out in front of the whole class* Continuing “She thinks she can do whatever she wants because she has a pretty face!"

And in that moment, I wanted to crawl in a hole forever. I wanted to go back to my room, back to my bed, back to Netflix, and just HIDE. I was absolutely mortified. All of my fears were confirmed and that awful voice in my head was reassuring me that I shouldn’t have left my room after all. And I believed it.

I didn't know any of these people either. That rude and unnecessary comment because my friend saved me a spot in class. Really? So you can probably guess what happened, my overly sensitive side, was in pure meltdown mode.

The funny thing is, normal Sofie, would have laughed this off. No doubt. I would have made uncomfortable eye contact, said something clever, walked away from there with my head held up high, completely owning the situation. This new version of me, however, was shaking all day, absolutely helpless. A situation that seems so small and silly to others, was spiraling out of control because my mind was blowing it out of proportion. That’s how my mind has worked lately. I had zero perspective.

Anyway. That whole situation lasted for about a week and it was a disaster. My demons took over and convinced me that this silly experience was the most humiliating event of my life, and that the negative thoughts in my head was true. In reality, it wasn’t a big of a deal. You’re probably wondering why I would let a situation like this affect me to this degree. But when it rains it pours right? I think that’s all based on attitude. When you’re already upset and sad it’s easy to feel like the world is against you and life isn’t fair. That’s where I’ve been. I let these things and these experiences hurt me, and it’s only gone a downhill from there. Without airing all of my dirty laundry, I’ll just tell you, it’s been hard. I wish I could sit here and write about how I had a breakthrough and overcome my social anxiety, but in reality I’m still healing.

I think a huge part of being vulnerable, is not downplaying your hardships. I consider myself so blessed, and so lucky, every. day. of. my. life. I have friends with eating disorders, I have friends struggling with addictions, I have family with who’s parents are dying. Their problem seem so much bigger than my own. And it feels awkward and insensitive to sit here and talk about my inner struggles, when I know there is so much more hurt in the world on such a higher level. But like I said, being vulnerable is accepting your flaws, acknowledging them, and having the courage to let other people see them as well. My challenges are REAL. Oh so real. And just because someone is going through a really, really hard time, that doesn’t take away my issues, or discredit them in anyway. I’m not posting this so you will feel sorry for me. I’m posting this because getting better is a process. And it involves being vulnerable, in whatever way you can be. I really hope that comes across.

So while I haven’t solved my own problems, I’ve found little ways to make the healing less painful. And in attempt to make this topic sound less depressing, I want to share these ways with you, in case there’s a girl/boy like me out there who can benefit from this like I have.

Consider these tips, a little ibuprofen for the soul.

1. CUT OFF TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS.

This one took me the longest to figure out, and it’s a little strange because this one hurts. This one takes awhile for the relief to kick in. Like weeks or months, even. But when it finally does, you feel so GOOD! You know how bad it sucks when you feel like you’re the one putting in all the effort into a friendship/relationship? Like you care so much about this person, and this friendship and you’d be willing to do anything for, but you don’t feel like they would do the same? CUT IT OFF. For so long I tried to hold onto these certain friendships, and nurture them back to health, simply for the fact that we had known each other for a long time. But that’s not a good enough reason to let someone keep hurting you. One sided friendships aren’t healthy. So END IT BABE!! Be a friend from afar. Meaning you can still be nice and loving to someone, without letting them take advantage of your kindness.

2. YOUR PHONE IS PUBLIC ENEMY #1

When you’re sad and you’re constantly seeing your friends out having fun without you, it suuuuucks. Right? Why do we put ourselves through that?? For me the timing couldn’t have been more fitting as a hacker decided to delete my Instagram account around two weeks ago. It’s like this person just knew what was about to come and what was needed of me. In another lifetime I’m sure we can be friends, good friends even. But in this life...hell no! I had some good thirst traps over there! (more on that in another blog post) Anyway, so I removed myself from Snapchat. It wasn’t helping me at all. It was making me feel worse about myself, and the fact that I didn’t want to go out and be social. When I was blissfully unaware of what everyone was doing, when I wasn’t checking my phone every two seconds to see their updates, I was able to focus on important things. Like writing, talking to my family, working out, cooking and reading even. The good stuff.

Instagram is a place where you’re seeing the best parts of everyone’s life. You’re seeing the good selfie, not the 78 bad ones in the rejected pile. You’re seeing celebrities and models, who not only have a glam squad, but a team of professionals at good angles, and photoshop.

We’re all attracted to beautiful things, but at some point we have to be careful with the type of media we ingest. If you scroll down your Instagram feed and a photo makes you feel bad about yourself, or your body, or your life, it’s time to unfollow. Comparison kills. It’s taken me awhile to realize that someone else‘s beauty doesn’t take away mine. But when that’s all that’s being shoved down our throats on social media all day, unfollowing for awhile can actually help.

So yes, my tip number 2, is when you’re sad, try and stay off your phone. Really. It’s that simple. We’re all human girls and boys. We can’t stay away forever. But deleting or removing yourself from the app until you feel better about yourself again, is a good place to start.

And last but not least,

3. IT’S OKAY TO STAY HOME ON A FRIDAY NIGHT


If I’ve learned anything it’s that I’m still going to have a pretty awesome life, even if I skip a party. I’m still going to be happy and successful and cool, if I take sometime to myself.


These tips aren’t foolproof, and it feels a little silly offering any sort of advice when I have a hard time following it myself. But those three things have had a huge impact on my life, already, and it’s worth noting.

Like I said, I don’t have this whole thing figured out. But neither do you, and that’s actually really cool. That we’re all just clueless and scared. Sometimes you’ll have it together a little more than me, and you’ll help me, and sometimes I’ll be the one helping you. But that’s what life is about. Helping each other. And just by reading this, you’re helping me.

So here’s to healing. Here’s to staying home and watching The Office. Here’s to being vulnerable on the internet.


Sofie

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