#today is a bergen sisters day
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Inspired by and written for @gabykatttt !! Hope you like it!
Based on the Branch HC here
@jules0511
This story is separate from the other AU stories going on, but highlights the relationship that will develop between Branch and the twins as time goes on.
Velvet and Veneer are in recovery and looking to to redeem themselves after the events of Trolls 3. They come back and forth between Rageous and Bergentown as the Trolls have adopted them in.
Velvet is looking to better herself to also be a better sister to Veneer. But now she has a very small competition going on with none other than Branch… who has claimed himself Veneers older brother.
“He’s going to love this!” Her smile seemed almost malicious, but Velvet was actually happy. Finally, after all this time, after all these years, she had found some! In her hand was a small box, within the box was the rare, but delicious, Tiff Toff Chocolate. She didn’t know where it came from, but she happened to find some here at there stay in Bergentown. Velvet made sure to get enough for the trip back home in a couple days.
She quickly made her way into the Bergen Castle to look for her brother. Today, she sported her back to normal attire. A magenta over sized sweeter that hung loosely on her torso, over a black tight mini dress’s. For shoes, she began to sport her combat boots again, this time black. Her hair was still styled up in her usual ponytail; on her wrist, the pink crystal bracelet Veneer once gave her long ago.
Velvet hasn’t felt happy like this in a long time.
“Ven!” She cried out as she made her ways through the hallways of the castle.
“Veneer!”
She peeked behind door to door. He wasn’t in town, so he had to be around here somewhere…
“Thank you Branch!” She distinctively heard her brother’s voice. She followed it. Velvet opened one door to find Veneer sitting cross legged on a chair, the small little Troll named Branch standing next to him in the table.
Veneer began dressing a little more himself. Today was a red poofy, sleeveless vest that stopped at his waist, collar turned up. Underneath a skin tight black t shirt with sleeves. He wore black skinny jeans with his brown combat boots… he was always one for boots… and his purple beanie…. God what was it with him and that beanie!
Veneer turned to find Velvet standing at the door.
“Vels look! Look what Branch got me!” He ran to his sister to show her a handful of Tiff Toff Chocolates…. Wait, Tiff Toff Chocolates!?
“You’re kidding…” Was all that escaped her lips. She eyed the little Troll with dagger eyes. Branch arched an eyebrow… what he do now?
“Oh! What’s that?” Veneer exclaimed as he saw the box within Velvets hand.
“Oh, um…” Before she could come up with any explanation, Veneer snatched the box out of her hand and opened it up.
“MORE TIFF TOFFS!!!” He exclaimed as he began bouncing up and down like an excited child.
“Ya. Surprise.” Her tone was sarcastic.
“Eeehhh!! I’m going to give one to Floyd!” He ran out like a happy kid at Christmas. Velvet waited till he was out of ear shots way.
“What the hell Branch!” Velvet turned furiously at the little Troll who still stood on the table.
“What I do now?” Branch retorted crossing his arms.
“Im the one who told you he LOVES Tiff Toff Chocolate! That I’ve been trying to find some for him, and you go and pull this crap!” She exclaimed. Branch stared at her wide eyed and open mouthed.
“Seriously! You’re seriously going to come at me for that?”
“Yes!”
“I just happened to see them and thought of what you said! I even told him you mentioned it! So I’m not taking full credit. I wanted to do something nice for him for a change.” Branch said. “I haven’t been the best brother figure to Veneer, so I’m trying to make it up. I want to be better now that I’m not the baby brother anymore.”
“Excuse me? Brother? Last time I remember DNA states that Veneer and ME are siblings. Not some raunchy Troll.”
“Watch it girly! Yeah, I grew to see Veneer as a little brother… he followed me around everywhere it’s hard not to. I mean he does need to have a stable sibling to look up to.” Branch spat back.
“Stable? I am stable!” Velvet said.
“Oh no. You have mood swings like no tomorrow. You leave whenever you so please whether you’re here in Bergentown or back at Rageous! Veneer doesn’t need that right now.”
“Oh and you know exactly what he needs?” Velvet crossed her arms.
“Why yes I do!” Branch mirrored her stance.
“What Vennie needs right now is his family… and that’s me! Not some grudge Troll who ignores him half the time because he’s annoyed with him. I NEVER ignored Veneer!” Velvet said.
“Well I NEVER treated him like garbage! I admit how I treated him was wrong, but I never once manipulated or treated him the way you have! I am willing to make it up to him.” Branch replied.
“Well so am I! That’s what I am trying do! Be a good sister! So stop interfering! And stop self-proclaiming yourself as his brother!”
“It’s a role I so happened to take! Proudly I might add! Someone had to be there for him when you decide to go on your mood swings and ignore everyone! And run off every now and then to god knows where! I know what it’s like to be abandoned.”
“I DO NOT abandon my brother! I’m trying to work on myself too you know! I’m trying to be a better person for myself and MY brother.”
“Well that makes two of us! I’m trying to better myself for my brothers too… and that includes Veneer now!”
“So what makes you think you a good brother to Veneer? He’s been MY brother since birth! So I know him the best and the longest. We’ve been by each other’s side since, we have been through hell and back! We’re inseparable! And that doesn’t plan to change.”
“We’ll make room “sister” cause now you have an older brother in the mix.”
“Big brother? Please! I could squash you like a bug!”
“Try it! I dare you!”
Velvet and Branch were staring down each other… the door opened. They turned to find Veneer walking in already finishing the chocolate Tiff Toffs he had just gotten from both of them. He stared at them, cheeks puffed up from stuffing his face with chocolates.
“What did I walk into?” He said with a stuffed mouth full of Tiff Toffs.
“Just having a casual conversation with my favorite little Troll.” Velvet used her finger to tap Branch on the head a little too hard.
“Oh yeah. Super casual.” Branch retorted swiping her finger away…. Unfortunately, sarcasm was not Veneers first language. He smiled oblivious to the argument Velvet and Branch just had.
“Really? See Vels! You’re making progress already.” Veneer smiled at his sister.
“Why thank you. Oh! Let’s go to the roller rink? Today is disco night.” Velvet chimed turning her brother to head towards the door.
“Oh!” He exclaimed with a smile on his face, “I’ll so totally own that!”
“Make room for a tag along!” Branch whipped his hair to pull himself into Veneer’s shoulder. “Being a Pop Troll and member of Brozone, dancing is my specialty. I can show you some moves you can use on the dance floor.”
“Me and Vennie already had some choreography of our own.” Velvet replied.
“Well I can improve on that 100%.”
“I highly doubt it. Ven has it in the bag already, and I’ll be there with him.” Velvet added.
“He does have it in the bag, but it will be with MY help.” Branch replied.
“No, me.”
“Me.”
“Me!”
“ME!”
Veneer twist his head back and forth between Velvet and Branch, growing dizzy as he did so.
“Guys! You can both help me!” He exclaimed, “What I could actually go for is their pizza! Oh and their smoothie! Think they have the strawberry flavor now!…”
Veneer kept yapping away, oblivious at the daggers Velvet and Branch were staring at each other…. All Veneer knew right now, and all he cared about… was having his sister and new big brother.
#dreamworks trolls#trolls band together#velvet and veneer#trolls veneer#velvet trolls#veneer#trolls 3#fandom#velvet#velvet and veneer trolls#trolls branch#trolls fandom#trolls au#trolls fanfic#fanfic writing#fanfics#fanfiction
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TROLLS ASCENSION AU?
Okay, I've seen so many big-brained artists and writers come up with AUs where we swap a troll with Velvet and Veneer, or another troll with Floyd, etc., etc.
But what if the swap was somewhere way back in the beginning of the story?
~~~
Picture this:
It's finally time. The plan is risky, and even a little rocky, but all the preparations have been made. All the pieces put in place to put said plan in motion. The Pop Trolls were finally going to escape from Bergen-Town.
Viva was scared. Tomorrow was Trollstice. Anything could go wrong. She headed into the nursery, Poppy fast asleep.
King Peppy watched over her crib, exhausted from his renewed responsibilities as a father to a newborn. He cracked a weak smile to his eldest. “You alright?”
She shrugged. “I'm worried. For tomorrow."
Her father sighed. "You're not alone. But after your mother..."
Viva shut her eyes. They lost her mother just last year. After the Queen's death, King Peppy couldn't stand to lose either of his daughters. The day after that Trollstice, the plan to escape was hatched.
"I know," she said quietly. "But you're right, we can't let Poppy grow up here."
She glanced at her sister's small body, sound asleep. Poppy hadn't faced the terrors that the Pop Trolls had suffered yet. Viva was determined to make sure she would never have to.
Morning rose, and Viva’s eyes fluttered open to the sight of an empty crib. She bolted upright, running out of the pod to bump into her father.
“Viva,” he panted. His hand gripped hers, tugging without haste. “We have to leave, now.”
“Dad? What's going on? I thought we were leaving at noon—”
“There’s been a change in plans. With today being the Bergen Prince's first Trollstice, they're coming to the tree at sunrise. We haven't much time left."
Viva halted her confusion and nodded. It was time.
After the last of the villagers entered the tunnels, soon following behind was King Peppy and the princesses. His majesty charged ahead, leading his people. Viva stalled to make sure every troll was up and going. No troll left behind.
The rumbles and roars of Bergens could be heard above. They'd been found out.
Soon enough, the tips of pickaxes struck the ground, blasting pieces of rubble all around the target area. Large hands dug through the terrain, leaving the trolls to dodge and weave through every obstacle.
The cries of few trolls could be heard ahead of Viva, a straggler here and there. Her father grabbed whomever he could, and she grabbed the rest.
"Don't let go!" She called to the trolls alongside her. "Grab whoever you can and hold on tight. We are making it out of here--"
A hand burst from the tunnel ceiling directly above Viva, it's coarse fingers wriggling around, trying to grab whoever it could find. Viva tensed, but before it could grab her she ducked and rolled, lassoing the trolls behind her. That was close.
It felt like forever, but she and the others could see the light of a single torch. They were close to the group, her father was just ahead. But to Viva's shock, it wasn't as pleasant a sight as she would've hoped.
King Peppy was ensnared by one of the Bergen's pickaxes, and he had just thrown a cluster of trolls along the path to safety.
"Keep running! And don't stop," she told the others. She turned to his majesty. "Dad, just hold on, we can figure out how to get you loose."
"Viva, there's no time. You need to get to safety." He reached into his hair and pulled out Poppy. "Take your sister. Run."
"Dad? What are you doing?"
"I'll be right behind you. Take your sister to safety."
"What? No, I'm not leaving you!"
"If we all stay here to long, there's a chance one of us could get caught." He embraced his daughter before him. "I... I can't lose you too."
"But..." Tears welled up in Viva's eyes. She clasped her father's hand on her cheek, clutching tightly. "What about no troll left behind?"
His hand patted her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Viva."
With a great amount of force, he pushed her back right as a hand emerged from above. It plucked King Peppy up and away, as Viva screamed for her Dad. He was gone.
The bundle of trolls that were rolling down the tunnel finally stopped, collapsing just outside the exit in a plume of dust.
One of them limp towards it, turning to the others in despair. "I don't think... King Peppy made it."
A shadowed figure could be seen through the clouds of dust, eventually turning out to be... Princess Viva.
"Your highness," the village clamored in confusion and disbelief. "Where's His Majesty?"
Viva turned her head towards the crowd as her knees gave out, legs folding from physical and emotional exhaustion. "He's... he's gone."
She cried, sobbing to herself quietly as she looked down to her sister in her arms. "Our dad is gone."
~~~
So... Viva becomes queen. 🤪
I call it the Ascension AU. HUGE credit of inspiration to neonross_ on tiktok for their change of course trolls au!! Never would have dreamt this up without their genius. It's where brozone never broke up, and parts of it are still being revealed, so head over there and check it out!!
Might elaborate on how the plot of the first movie's plot would've developed with this change, so let me know if you guys would be interested in that! More writing and art coming soon!
#trolls#trolls 3#dreamworks#trolls band together#trolls viva#trolls poppy#trolls king peppy#trolls au#fanfic#writing#trolls ascension au
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A Broppy Wedding
The sun shone brightly over the lush gardens of the royal palace on the day of Branch and Poppy's wedding. The air was filled with anticipation and joy as guests from far and wide gathered to celebrate the union of the queen and her beloved.
Poppy looked radiant in her flowing white gown, a smile of pure happiness gracing her face. Branch stood at the altar, his heart pounding with excitement as he anxiously awaited his bride. The melody of their love played softly in the background, performed by their beloved bandmates, Brozone.
As the ceremony reached its heartfelt climax, the vows were exchanged, and the couple sealed their commitment with a tender kiss. The crowd erupted in applause, showering the newlyweds with love and well-wishes.
Amidst the cheers and laughter, Poppy turned to face her sister, Viva, who stood among the bridesmaids. In a spontaneous moment of sisterly love and gratitude, Poppy held the bouquet in her hands and instead of throwing it, she walked over to Viva.
With tears of joy in her eyes, Poppy handed the bouquet to Viva, their bond as sisters shining brightly. The guests chuckled and clapped, touched by this unexpected gesture of sisterly affection.
Viva, taken by surprise, blushed and smiled gratefully, holding the bouquet close to her heart. Little did she know, this was just the beginning of an extraordinary moment that would forever change her life.
As Viva turned to face the crowd, her eyes widened in astonishment. Clay, the gentle and charismatic member of Brozone, stood before her, a nervous but determined look on his face. He got down on one knee, reaching into his pocket to reveal a small velvet box.
As the crowd fell into a hushed silence, Clay took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on Viva. His heart swelled with love as he began to speak, his voice filled with emotion.
"Viva, my love," Clay's voice resonated through the air, his eyes locked with hers. "Today, as we stand here surrounded by the beauty of this moment, I am reminded of the incredible journey we have shared. From the first time I laid eyes on you, you captivated my heart in a way that I never thought possible."
He paused, memories flooding his mind. The dark days of their past began to fade as he focused on the light that Viva had brought into his life.
"Viva, you saved me from the darkness of the Bergens," Clay continued, his voice steady but filled with gratitude. "You saw beyond the surface, beyond our differences, and you recognized the goodness in my heart. When everyone else turned their backs on me, you extended your hand and showed me kindness, compassion, and love."
Clay's words hung in the air, carrying the weight of their shared history. The guests listened intently, their hearts touched by the depth of his expression.
"I will never forget the day you made me your right-hand man," Clay's voice trembled, his eyes shimmering with tears. "You believed in me, Viva, when I couldn't even believe in myself. You saw my potential, my talent, and you gave me a purpose. You brought out the best in me, inspiring me to be a better person, a better musician, and a better partner to you."
The guests watched, moved by the profound connection between Clay and Viva, as they stood before them, their love shining brightly.
Clay took a step closer to Viva, his hand reaching out to gently caress her cheek. "Viva, you are my rock, my guiding light. You have shown me what it means to love unconditionally, to support one another through thick and thin. With you by my side, I feel invincible, ready to face any challenge that life throws our way."
The crowd held their breath, caught up in the intimate and heartfelt moment unfolding before them.
"Viva, will you continue to be my partner in life, my confidante, and my greatest source of inspiration?" Clay's voice quivered with vulnerability. "Will you do me the honour of marrying me?"
Viva's eyes shimmered with tears as she nodded, unable to find her voice amidst the overwhelming rush of emotions. Clay's face lit up with joy as he slipped the ring onto her finger, sealing their love and commitment in a moment that would forever be etched in their hearts.
The guests erupted into applause, their cheers echoing through the gardens. Clay and Viva embraced, their hearts overflowing with love and gratitude. In that beautiful moment, surrounded by their loved ones, Clay and Viva knew that their journey together would be filled with endless love, support, and the unwavering belief in each other's dreams. Their love story, born from the ashes of their past, had blossomed into a symphony of hope, resilience, and an unbreakable bond that would withstand the test of time.
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Scars are beautiful
Today was a normal day in pop troll Village.
Poppy and the gang were setting of the party for the twins Velvet and Veneer for their success for defeating the mistress,Creek and the Bergen chef.
Alright everything looks perfect Poppy said.
Yes all we need is the final touch Delta said.
Viva grabbed the the glitter bottles and confetti.
Branch and his brothers placed the cake on the table.
Brigdet and Gristle just finished putting the balloons.
Okay now we wait for the twins they’re gonna love it Poppy said.
I know Viva said.
Guys they’re coming Floyd said as everyone gathered around.
The gang heard the door opened and only saw Veneer entering the castle.
Where’s Velvet? Barb asked.
I don’t know she’s probably still sleeping I guess Branch replied.
Surprise Viva said.
Veneer couldn’t help but smiled.
Hey Vennie where’s your sister Velvet? Poppy asked.
Oh she’s still in the room probably still changing but I think she’s almost done Veneer said.
Okay well the party is about to start and we can’t celebrate without her Poppy said.
Don’t worry she’ll come I promise she’s just taking time Veneer said.
Alright let’s just wait for her then Branch said.
I’ll check on her Poppy said exiting the castle.
Poppy there’s something you need to know Veneer thought worried about Velvet.
Are you okay Veneer? Floyd asked.
Yeah it’s just that Velvet she’s not feeling like herself Veneer said.
Why’s that? Branch asked.
She’s feeling a bit insecure and guilt about what happened Veneer said.
Branch and Floyd looked at Veneer and got on his shoulders.
With Poppy
Alright this must be Velvet’s room Poppy said to herself entering the door.
With Velvet
Umm Veneer you’re there oh I guess I forgot to lock it let just- Velvet said getting cut off by Poppy.
Hi Velvet Poppy said.
Ahhhhh Poppy what are you doing here haven’t you heard of knocking before barging in Velvet said covering herself with a hoodie.
Sorry about that Poppy said getting on the cabin.
So Velvet why are you covering yourself with your hoodie? Poppy asked.
You don’t wanna know Velvet said.
Come on it’s not like everyone it going to make fun of you Poppy said smiling.
Easy for you to say Velvet thought trying to ignore the troll.
Please Poppy said.
Alright fine just don’t start making fun of me Velvet said removing her hoodie only to reveal scars all over her body.
Poppy stopped smiling and gasped in horror.
Velvet what happened to you? Poppy asked.
Velvet couldn’t help but feel tears dripping down on her face knowing that Veneer told her about her guilt and ashamed about the scars.
You wanna talk about it? Poppy asked getting on Velvet’s shoulder.
I don’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable of what I’m about to tell you Velvet said trying to hold on her tears.
Poppy couldn’t help but feel worried about Velvet.
She always sees hers as a sister just like seeing Veneer as a brother.
Please let’s talk okay Poppy said.
Velvet gulped and panicked but gave up.
Okay I’ll tell you Velvet said still holding her tears while looking at her scars.
To be continued
@simplydannie @once-ler-ask-blog153 @skydiverdrawings @sweetgirl15161819 @brozonelovergirl @horrorartist23
#trolls band together#trolls veneer#trolls au#trolls velvet#velvet and veneer#trolls poppy#trolls viva#trolls fandom
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You're back! Hi! Hope you're doing well😊
I love all these ideas that anon had about future trolls movies.
My predictions:
Broppy wedding or at least proposal
Maybe conflict around it. Like Branch wants to marry Poppy but he doesn't want to be a king or the village doesn't want him as king (I don't think it will happen because it seems that pop trolls now love Branch🤔)
Maybe conflict around Poppy and Viva. Poppy is the Queen but Viva is older so she has to be a Ruler. And both Poppy and Viva will think that their sister is better for this and not them.
New Villain. Maybe Creek will return or a bergen could also be a good villain again. Maybe new character. A gray troll who wants revenge or something like this. There is a really good art about a gray troll as a villain.
But we can only speculate.
Have a good day!
Hi!!! I’m back and doing great today :)
It’s great to get the creative juices flowing w/ future films speculations!! I can totally see the idea of being king give some apprehension. Maybe he can be like, prince consort or something. Aw, that's sweet that poppy and viva think highly of each other, I'm sure they can work it out! Luckily viva does have her putt putts.
Ooh what an interesting idea for a future antagonist. especially since we haven't seen any other gray troll yet. Excited to see who the next villain will be, the franchise has made some pretty good ones so far!!
#asks#I hope you have a good day as well!!!🤗#thanks for the ask!!#lololol sorry for the fumble#accidentally posted this prematurely lol
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Though angelic pop anomaly Aurora hails from Norway, it can feel like she was beamed here from another planet, an alternate universe, or at the very least, another time. A superstar with an otherworldly aesthetic, a special bond with nature and millions of followers on Instagram, Aurora is so enigmatic, decoding her is an almost impossible task. Still, we cannot help but try
Aurora is sitting in her bedroom, drinking a dark liquid from an elaborate chalice. “This is cola, by the way, not wine,” she clarifies, giggling. The Norwegian artist’s signature viking-meets-anime haircut frames her angelic face, which fills my screen. Behind her, beaded vintage purses and a dramatic silver gown cascade from the wall. Also in frame: a cabinet full of teas and spices and a picture of what appears to be Mary and baby Jesus.
Aurora is six minutes late, which she is profoundly apologetic for. She had been on top of a mountain in the rain and had to blow-dry her trademark cut before meeting with me. “It’s such lovely weather today. Really small raindrops from the sky,” she says. It’s fortuitous that she likes the rain; Aurora, born Aurora Aksnes, lives in Bergen, the rainiest place on Earth. It also happens to be the birthplace of the majority of Norway’s musical talent – DJ-producers Kygo and Alan Walker, electronic duo Röyksopp, even groundbreaking composer Edvard Grieg all hail from the city.
But Aurora’s story begins on the west coast of Norway, in a village next to the Lysefjord, also known as the Fjord of Light. “A lot of nature, a lot of forest, and little people,” she says. “So I grew up quite sheltered.” A self-described introvert, Aurora spent more time as a child within her own imagination than she ever did in school. She did, however, find a great companion in nature, spending hours walking in the forests close to her home. “Nature, she belongs to all of us. And she offers so much tranquillity and peace and silence,” she says, noting that these days we tend to get “very affected by so many worthless things”. “Nature offers some peace. It doesn’t matter who you are when you’re in the forest.”
After coming across her older sister Miranda’s piano in the attic at just six years old, Aurora started writing music . As she explains it, it was her calling because she felt that she’d never heard a perfect song. At nine, she started to write lyrics in English, and at sixteen, after a video of her singing went viral online, she quit school, and went on her first tour. At 20, she released her debut album All My Demons Greeting Me As A Friend, launching an international career. The record features the song “Runaway”, which, despite being six years old, has enjoyed a recent resurgence via TikTok. Today it has more than 500 million streams on Spotify.
This year, at 26, Aurora released her latest album, The Gods We Can Touch, to critical acclaim. While one would certainly identify Aurora as a pop star, she is hardly mainstream. Her music reflects her ethereal essence, somehow embodying the fjords and the mountains around which she grew up. Characterised by dreamy harmonies, her sound both transcends space and time and is rooted firmly in the modern internet pop landscape. Perhaps it ’s this dichotomy that allows her music to live both in the world of Disney’s Frozen II and in the popular video game Assassin’s Creed.
Though Aurora doesn’t recall much from her childhood, aside from “the things I was dreaming about and thinking about”, she does fondly remember her cat, Septimus. It’s the same name she’s given all of her pets – to her mind they’re all the same creature, reincarnated again and again. “To deal with pets dying, it was good for me. I was a sensitive little bean,” she says.
I reveal that I have a pet dog named Doggy, who is nearly 15 years old. As soon as I mention him, Aurora starts to cry, tapping into my impending heartbreak. These days she doesn’t have a pet herself – the lifestyle of an internationally touring pop star doesn’t suit animal companionship. She has, however, made a connection with a crow in the park next to her home. Aurora brings him shiny things, and he brings her gifts sometimes, too.
In addition to Septimus, Aurora also found companionship in her two older sisters, Viktoria and Miranda. She says they are among the few people who understand her, granting her the space and freedom to be herself. “I was very disconnected from people as a child,” she says. “I learned to love most people in my life when I grew up and understood what the essence of family is, and love, and coexisting. Because I was really overwhelmed by just learning to exist in myself as a human.”
Today, Aurora and her sisters are not only best friends, but close collaborators; Viktoria is a stylist and costume designer and Miranda is a hair and makeup artist. The sibling trio collaborated on our editorial. Later, I ask Viktoria over text message what it’s like to work with her superstar sister. “She knows when to leave it to me, and I know when to shut up and do what she wants even though it kills my pride or ego,” she says, adding that Aurora is a “very relaxed boss”. Even over text message, the sisterly bond is apparent – Viktoria signs off with a plant leaf emoji.
“I hate the fashion industry,” Aurora boldly declares when we start to discuss her eight-year long collaboration with Viktoria. “Fashion is important to me – it’s art, and it’s beautiful – but I hate the sad, hidden part of it. It’s so un-transparent and secretive.” Rather than wear items with a nebulous history, she prefers to ask Viktoria to make her clothes. Sometimes she explains her vision, sometimes they draw up designs together. “It’s very loose and free,” she says.
A conversation with Aurora can spontaneously divert to musings on space and time, philosophy, and the human condition. It strikes me that she could have become anything she wanted, but she says she quickly settled single-mindedly on music. “I understood the importance of music quite early, and I connected it in my mind with nature,” she says. “Music is a way to pool what nature is for our souls into something we can hold in our hands, and kind of shape it into something more comprehensible.” Aurora speaks of nature and music as if they are an extension of herself or a language that she speaks fluently. As the thoughts tumble out, the cogs in my mind shift as I try to keep up.
The music she was exposed to early – Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Enya – is a sanctuary for Aurora. These artists offer both a means to self-understanding and a portal for escape. “My brain has sometimes been a good thing and sometimes been a bad thing. It depends on what situation,” she says. “Since I became an artist, it’s always been my goal to offer the same kind of escape.”
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Aurora is not one to focus on the superficial or mundane. “It doesn’t matter if you get likes or if you’re one centimetre skinnier in your arms. Or if you have a pimple on your forehead. We know it doesn’t matter, but we still let it affect us so much,” she says (for the record, Aurora gets many likes – she has 2.3 million Instagram followers). Instead, she spends her free time studying big ideas: our perception of time, reincarnation and the meaning of life.
Aurora has a charming habit of pointing out concepts she doesn’t understand, as if she’s an alien observing human behaviour. Take, for instance, the way in which we tend to view our lives in a linear series of events - engagement, marriage, children. She chuckles and says that she doesn’t grasp any of it. “I always think of life as me being here, and then life just happens around me all the time and you’re in the middle of the now, which you always own. The now is always yours,” she says, gesturing her hands around her in a circular motion.
“Life is just all a round us, all the time. And we capture the right things sometimes, the right people and the right moments and opportunities.” She pauses to stare out her window towards the mountains, cloudy skies, and miniature raindrops she loves so much, adding, “Earth is my favourite place I’ve been in my life.”
[VOGUE SCANDINAVIA]
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Today in History: Aug. 4, Anne Frank and family arrested
On this date: In 1958 ,The Billboard Hot 100 is published for the 1st time, with "Poor Little Fool" by Ricky Nelson at #1.
By The Associated Press
Today in History
Today is Friday, Aug. 4, the 216th day of 2023. There are 149 days left in the year.
Today’s Highlight in History
On Aug. 4, 1944, 15-year-old diarist Anne Frank was arrested with her sister, parents and four others by the Gestapo after hiding for two years inside a building in Amsterdam. (Anne and her sister, Margot, died at the Bergen-Belsen…
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Lili Reinhart and Rebecca Rittenhouse manip
#lili reinhart#rebecca rittenhouse#manip#manips#lili reinhart manip#rebecca rittenhouse manip#**mine#**my stuff#today is a bergen sisters day#c:erika#brotp:you were there when nobody else was
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(...) [Trudy] didn’t like Anne Frank. At first I couldn’t absorb the sentiment, couldn’t really believe my ears. It was like hearing a Catholic say she wasn’t fond of the Virgin Mary, that she was sick of all her tiresome bragging. Virgin birth – big deal. But then I realized that Trudy’s distaste for Anne Frank the person – whatever girlhood tiff set it off – returned the Holocaust to where it belongs, in prosaic human history. It’s not a myth, or a sacred narrative, with demigods and martyrs and supernatural heroines. It’s not a biblical story, a tragic moment pointing to redemption. It’s a story of girls and boys, Annes and Trudys, and their brothers and sisters and parents, murdered and tortured the way humans have murdered and tortured since time immemorial.
But the next day, at lunch, I discovered that Trudy’s Anne Frank induced scowl wasn’t merely personal (it was mostly personal). “Of course, she was a mean girl – like you see today in the movies, yes?” Trudy said. “A mean girl. That was Anne. But that wasn’t really her fault. It was her father, you see, who spoiled her, and, well, never mind, I’ve said too much. But to me, what became insufferable was her optimism. ‘I know in my heart that people are good.’ That was from her diary, yes? People are good? Do you think she believed that in Bergen-Belsen?”
I’m not sure she realized it — she didn’t follow Jewish intellectual arguments — but Trudy had stumbled onto one of the key controversies surrounding Anne Frank’s diary: its supposed optimism. It was actually the hit Broadway play that highlighted Anne’s line about the essential goodness of the human heart; both the play and the movie end with the quote. The diary itself includes the line, but also Anne’s observation that the world would be better off without any people. Critics of the play, including Cynthia Ozick in an influential Commentary piece where she half-wishes the diary had never been found, accuse the playwrights and their supporters of using the diary – and therefore the Shoah – to promote an anti-Zionist, anodyne universalism that negates Jewish national concerns.
But Trudy wasn’t responding to the diary’s politics, or to the political uses others made of the book or the play or the movie. She was just pissed off at Anne Frank because, in her opinion, Anne got it wrong: People aren’t basically good. For Trudy, the Shoah was never a rhetorical weapon or a political tool – it wasn’t up for grabs to the loudest shouter. It was her personal story. To me, it felt like Trudy longed for Anne to have survived, just so that Trudy could have told her off, survivor to survivor, person to person.
I cried a little the day Trudy’s daughter emailed me that her mother had died; she was a friend, and I will always miss her. But a deeper gloom hit me the next day, when I realized that as the last of the survivors pass away, the Holocaust is truly up for grabs. Without the grounding of Trudy and her contemporaries, we’re free to hurl the term “kapo” at whoever doesn’t share our politics, free to spin the Auschwitz narrative whichever way suits our ideology, free to twist and bend and stretch the Shoah so that it speaks to whatever issue is on our mind. Trudy is gone, so there’s no one to shame us into stopping.
This is genuinely one of the most well-written things I’ve ever read about Anne Frank and the universalization and dehumanization of the Holocaust and its victims.
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Yesterday, for Yom HaShoah, Shoah Remembrance Day, the Shoah memorial had that yearly ceremony where they have people read during 24 hours the names of Jewish people who were deported in France during the war. Those people are usually descendants or direct family members of the deported. A woman was standing next to the reader to correct them if they mispronounced someone's name because "It's all that is left of them. We should at least give them that."
Since they don't have time to read all 76 000 names every year, they roughly do half of it. My family convoy was first yesterday and I got to hear their names said out loud. None of them returned. The only survivors were my grandfather and his mom, who were warned of the police raid beforehand and found good people to hide them.
How lucky are we to have survivors alive today who can still share their story with us.
The absolute raw pain of hearing the only survivor of a family say: "[read name] my mother. [read name] my sister. [read name] my sister, 1 year old. [read name] me."
Yesterday, Isabelle Choko, 93, shared her story with us.
Born in Poland, she was sent to the Lodz Ghetto with her parents. Her dad died there. After the liquidation of the camp, she and her mother were sent with all the other survivors to Auschwitz. They arrived after two days spent in cattle cars, without any food, or any room to sit or even much air to breathe. Once there, they were led by soldiers to the entrance of the camp with no idea what was going to happen. A man crossed her path, and very quietly so only she could hear it, whispered to her: "There are two paths at the end of the line, kid. Go left and you'll live, go right and you'll die. Don't forget: go left."
She didn't know it at the time, but nazis were selecting people and killing anyone who didn't seem fit to work, so mostly people under 18 or over 60.
Isabelle looked older than she was because of the hard years spent in the Ghetto and the soldiers let her go left. Her mom, though, had grey hair because of those same awful years and the soldiers stopped her. Isabelle decided to go back for her. She took her hand and slowly pulled her to the left. Seeing a huge crowd arriving behind them, the soldiers let them both go left.
"Living" only meant not getting gassed immediately. They both were assigned to a working group and they were charged with digging holes. Their only meals were "brown water" and bread and margarine in the morning, a soup for lunch and a soup for supper. One time, Isabelle's arms gave out and she had to stop working for a few minutes. An SS officer arrived and told them he knew someone stopped working, that they should turn themselves in or everyone would sleep outside that night. In winter. In Poland. Isabelle came forward and told him it was her. He struck her so hard she fell a few feet behind. That night, the officer told them they were going to move to Bergen-Belsen and that they would all regret Aushwitz. They didn't believe him at the time.
Aushwitz was evacuated by nazis in February 1945. Bergen-Belsen was liberated by the Allies in April 1945. Nazis stopped giving people any kind of food. Prisoners were just lying in their barracks, not able to move anymore, dead and living people mixing together. Seeing her mom weakening, Isabelle begged her not to leave her and to stay with her. One night, her mom asked her if she could bring her some soup. Isabelle promised her she would do so in the morning, knowing full well there was no soup. Her mom died during the night.
A few days later, someone went through the door, took in the sight of what was before him, left and came back with a doctor. They were going through all the bodies to find any survivors. Isabelle was only able to move her head left and right and was saved that day.
After the war, she went to France to go live with her uncle and his family who had hidden to escape deportation. She became French women's chess champion in 1956, had children, grand-children and now great grand-children.
Never forget.
#Shoah#Yom HaShoah#some humans... are really extraordinary#I don't feel good after telling this story but this isn't about me. this is remembrance day.#to lighten the mood: there were like 5 survivors at the ceremony and they weren't really listening. they were chatting among themselves#but like... no one was gonna shush a Shoah survivor lmao. so they just let them be. it was very cute#one day I'll talk about my family's fate
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This...
Earlier (around 10 pm, May 14th) out of nowhere....
Me and my mom got invited to my Maternal grandfather's 75th birthday. And meeting grandpa Viking would have been great if it wasn't for the fact that I haven't seen this man in
14-15 years. I wish I was kidding. But it's true. I haven't seen his face or heard his voice in 14-15 years.
AND he even got himself a new girlfriend!
Here is the story; my maternal grandmother (his first wife) died of breast cancer when I was 5 and my sister was 7.
After that there was a fight between my grandpa and my mom (she is the oldest of his children) about who was going to heritage the old house (the first house me, my mom, my dad and my sister lived in from I was 0-2 years old before we moved where me and my mom still lives now). And that fight just kept this man, my grandpa to slowly but steadily withdraw himself from his own family. Stopped congratulating us on our birthdays. Stopped sending holiday cards...stopped coming for visits.
THEN (when I was around 8 or 10? I think?) he got himself a girlfriend or re-married...I don't remember if they ever got married or were engaged but his new gf/wife really took initiative to include me, my mom, my sister, my aunt and uncles (my mom's siblings) and my cousins so we could all be together like a family should be.
But then something must have happened to my grandpa and his ex gf, because he began to withdraw himself again and according to my mom he told her that they had broken up. And so he kept withdrawing himself. Shutting us out.
And this is why all of this is extra sad;
Grandpa Viking still lives in the same house he did as when my grandma was still alive. Same house. Same adress.
This house is literally about a 30 - 40 minute busride away from me and my mom (my parents got divorced and my sister has moved out and lives in a different city, far away).
So this means that my grandpa has been living close to me, all this time. But what's even sadder is that;
His birthday is a day before mine. (May 15th and mine is May 16th) And I have always been aware of this. We used to celebrate our birthdays together when I was a baby and until my grandma passed away.
And NOW..out of nowhere...with less than 24 hour notice...his NEW girlfriend (that I had no idea about) wants me and my mom and probably also my uncle (my aunt and other uncle lives too far away)...to come and celebrate grandpa Viking's 75th birthday.
My mom asked me if I wanted to join.
My mom had told him over the phone that me and my sister were in Bergen or that "they are in Bergen" although my sister is the only one who lives there.
But my mom let me decide. And she said she had full understanding if I didn't want to come. As I haven't seen this man for 14-15 years.
But I accepted the invitation! I am going! I will meet grandpa Viking! I have no idea about his physical or mental health or how his and my late grandma's house looks on the inside today. I hope it looks like how I remember it. I remember it clearly.
I AM nervous! For 15 years this man has been "dead" to me. And its odd that I will meet him NOW as I have thought about him alot lately/past couple of years. Wondering how he looked like now. Wondering if I should randomly drive to his house and see him.
And now I AM going to see him!! And it feels surreal! And it might be the last time I will ever see him. He might die very soon or he may not enjoy our meeting and withdraw himself again. This might be the last chance I have! To see grandpa Viking! (It's from his last name that I have the word Viking in my full name. No seriously..I AM actually Viking something!)
He might hate the way I look now with my plum-red hair, my lip percing and my harshly drawn brows... I don't know!?!? I don't know what kind of a grandpa he could have been. The last conversation I had with him was short. I was 14-15 and my mom hadn't come home from work. I invited him inside for coffee although I had no idea how to make coffee with the coffee machine. He declined. He sat down and read the newspaper that was left on the livingroom table by my mom. And then out of nowhere he began to talk to me about how the prices of houses/apartments had gone up. As if I could have moved out at the age of only 15....??
And now he will see me again. One day before I'm turning 29. Of course I could have rejected him. Like he has withdrawn from me. But if this is a chance to have him in my life, even if only for 5-10 more years. Then I'll take it!
What is past is the past. It is what it is...although my mom has told me to play along and pretend for his new gf that me and grandpa Viking have been superclose this entire time..(as we don't know how much this girlfriend knows about our broken family ties.)
The thing that makes me the most nervous is that unfortunately (like my mom) I do look alot like my grandma. I have her face, her smile and her eyes. I hope seeing me won't remind him too much of her. I don't want to be the reason for why he is hurting. I don't know anything about his current health! I hope our meeting goes well. I am excited and nervous!
But If our meeting doesn't go well, if he doesn't accept me or us, me and my mom (for whatever reason) and wants to withdraw himself again...then I can't force him back. In the end this will be his decision. But I am open for (even a short) relationship with him. If he wants to.
But like my mom always says;
"If they don't want to do anything or doesn't want to be with you...you can't force them!"
Hopefully the meeting goes well, though we obviously cant hug each other in these times...
But I'm excited! Wish me good luck! 🤞
#i will meet my grandfather for the first time in 15 years#unfortunately i look alot like my late grandmother...i hope seeing me wont bring him back some sad memories#i will meet grandpa viking#this is the side of the family with the word viking in its name#personal viking
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Women’s History Month began as a week-long celebration in Sonoma, California in 1978 which was centered around International Women’s Day on March 8. A year later during a women’s history conference at Sarah Lawrence College, participants learned how successful the week was and decided to initiate similar in their own areas. President Carter issued the first proclamation for a national Women’s History Week in 1980. In 1987, Congress (after being petitioned by the National Women’s History Project) passed Pub. L. 100-9 designating March as Women’s History Month. U.S. Presidents have issued proclamations on Women’s History Month since 1988.
The Libraries will be hosting two virtual events to celebrate Women’s History Month for 2021. The first is a talk by Nicholson School of Communication faculty member, Dr. Kimberly Voss, called “Make No Mistake, Florida is Crucial”: Sen. Lori Wilson and the Equal Rights Amendment, which discusses efforts to ratify the ERA in Florida. The second is a panel discussion called Women & Academia in the Time of COVID where five UCF faculty and administrators will discuss the impact of the COVID pandemic and remote learning on their teaching, scholarship, service loads and personal lives. Both events are free and open to the public. Click on the links to register to attend.
We have created a list of books about women, both history and fiction, suggested by staff. Please click on the read more link below to see the full book list with descriptions and catalog links. And don’t forget to stop by the John C. Hitt Library to browse the featured bookshelf on the main floor near the Research & Information Desk for additional Women’s History Month books.
A Girl of the Limberlost by Gene Stratton Porter
Elnora Comstock grows up on the banks of Limberlost Swamp in Indiana with her bitter mother, Katharine. Unable to afford an education, Elnora develops a plan to sell artifacts and moths from the swamp.
Suggested by Pat Tiberii, Interlibrary Loan and Document Delivery Services
A Woman of No Importance: the untold story of the American spy who helped win World War II by Sonia Purnell
Based on new and extensive research, Sonia Purnell has for the first time uncovered the full secret life of Virginia Hall--an astounding and inspiring story of heroism, spycraft, resistance, and personal triumph over shocking adversity. It is the breathtaking story of how one woman's fierce persistence helped win the war.
Suggested by Dawn Tripp, Research & Information Services
All the Horrors of War: a Jewish girl, a British doctor, and the liberation of Bergen-Belsen by Bernice Lerner
Drawing on a wealth of sources, including Hughes's papers, war diaries, oral histories, and interviews, this gripping volume combines scholarly research with narrative storytelling in describing the suffering of Nazi victims, the overwhelming presence of death at Bergen-Belsen, and characters who exemplify the human capacity for fortitude. Lerner, Rachel's daughter, has special insight into the torment her mother suffered. The first book to pair the story of a Holocaust victim with that of a liberator, it compels readers to consider the full, complex humanity of both.
Suggested by Katie Kirwan, Acquisitions & Collections
Data Feminism by Catherine D'Ignazio and Lauren F. Klein
This book offers strategies for data scientists seeking to learn how feminism can help them work toward justice, and for feminists who want to focus their efforts on the growing field of data science. But it is about much more than gender. It is about power, about who has it and who doesn't, and about how those differentials of power can be challenged and changed.
Suggested by Sandy Avila, Research & Information Services
Field o' My Dreams: the poetry of Gene Stratton-Porter compiled and edited by Mary DeJong Obuchowski
In her introduction to Porter’s work, Obuchowski argues that the natural and spiritual themes of Porter’s poetry mirror the self-same concerns regarding nature and social issues found in her fiction and nonfiction. Reflecting and in some cases reacting against, current social attitudes at a time of political and demographic change, she was in demand as a columnist for popular magazines and a widely read fiction writer. Porter wielded considerable influence over her reading public, and in that role she acted as a reformer, particularly regarding the environment but also on behalf of women, children, and education.
Suggested by Pat Tiberii, Interlibrary Loan and Document Delivery Services
Finish the Fight!: the brave and revolutionary women who fought for the right to vote written by the Staff of The New York Times
Who was at the forefront of women's right to vote? We know a few famous names, like Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton, but what about so many others from diverse backgrounds—black, Asian, Latinx, Native American, and more—who helped lead the fight for suffrage? On the hundredth anniversary of the historic win for women's rights, it's time to celebrate the names and stories of the women whose stories have yet to be told.
Suggested by Sandy Avila, Research & Information Services
Founding Sisters and the Nineteenth Amendment by Eleanor Clift
In this riveting account, political analyst Eleanor Clift chronicles the many thrilling twists and turns of the suffrage struggle and shows how the issues and arguments that surrounded the movement still reverberate today. Beginning with the Seneca Falls Woman’s Rights Convention of 1848, Clift introduces the movement’s leaders, recounts the marches and demonstrations, and profiles the opposition–antisuffragists, both men and women, who would do anything to stop women from getting the vote.
Suggested by Richard Harrison, Research & Information Services
Free Food for Millionaires by Min Jin Lee
Casey Han's four years at Princeton gave her many things, "But no job and a number of bad habits." Casey's parents, who live in Queens, are Korean immigrants working in a dry cleaner, desperately trying to hold on to their culture and their identity. Their daughter, on the other hand, has entered into rarified American society via scholarships. But after graduation, Casey sees the reality of having expensive habits without the means to sustain them. As she navigates Manhattan, we see her life and the lives around her, culminating in a portrait of New York City and its world of haves and have-nots. This fresh exploration of the complex layers we inhabit both in society and within ourselves.
Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections
From Equal Suffrage to Equal Rights: Alice Paul and the National Woman's Party, 1910-1928 by Christine A. Lunardini
The woman's movements and work in American history during the second two decades, was dramatic. It dealt with the past, with pageants and politics; with different organizations and with conflict from within. It took on the Democrats, founded a National Woman's Party; it waged a home front war. It dealt with prison, and resolution. It went from equal suffrage to equal rights.
Suggested by Richard Harrison, Research & Information Services
Indelicacy by Amina Cain
A cleaning woman at a museum of art nurtures aspirations to do more than simply dust the paintings around her. She dreams of having the liberty to explore them in writing, and so must find a way to win herself the time and security to use her mind. She escapes her lot by marrying a rich man, but having gained a husband, a house, high society, and a maid, she finds that her new life of privilege is no less constrained. Not only has she taken up different forms of time-consuming labor - social and erotic - but she is now, however passively, forcing other women to clean up after her. Perhaps another and more drastic solution is necessary?
Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections
See Jane Win: the inspiring story of the women changing American politics by Caitlin Moscatello
After November 8, 2016, first came the sadness; then came the rage, the activism, and the protests; and, finally, for thousands of women, the next step was to run for office—many of them for the first time. More women campaigned for local or national office in the 2018 election cycle than at any other time in US history, challenging accepted notions about who seeks power and who gets it. Journalist Caitlin Moscatello reported on this wave of female candidates for New York magazine's The Cut, Glamour, and Elle. In this book, she further documents this pivotal time in women's history. Closely following four candidates throughout the entire process, from the decision to run through Election Day, readers are taken inside their exciting, winning campaigns and the sometimes thrilling, sometimes brutal realities of running for office while female.
Suggested by Megan Haught, Student Learning & Engagement/Research & Information Services
Taking on the Trust: the epic battle of Ida Tarbell and John D. Rockefeller by Steve Weinberg
Long before the rise of mega-corporations like Wal-Mart and Microsoft, Standard Oil controlled the oil industry with a monopolistic force unprecedented in American business history. Undaunted by the ruthless power of its owner, John D. Rockefeller, a fearless and ambitious reporter named Ida Minerva Tarbell confronted the company known simply as “The Trust.” Through her peerless fact gathering and devastating prose, Tarbell, a muckraking reporter at McClure’s magazine, pioneered the new practice of investigative journalism. Her shocking discoveries about Standard Oil and Rockefeller led, inexorably, to a dramatic confrontation during the opening decade of the twentieth century that culminated in the landmark 1911 Supreme Court antitrust decision breaking up the monopolies and forever altering the landscape of modern American industry.
Suggested by Dawn Tripp, Research & Information Services
The Book of Gutsy Women: favorite stories of courage and resilience by Hillary Rodham Clinton and Chelsea Clinton
Hillary Rodham Clinton and her daughter, Chelsea, share the stories of the gutsy women who have inspired them—women with the courage to stand up to the status quo, ask hard questions, and get the job done. Ensuring the rights and opportunities of women and girls remains a big piece of the unfinished business of the twenty-first century. While there's a lot of work to do, we know that throughout history and around the globe women have overcome the toughest resistance imaginable to win victories that have made progress possible for all of us. That is the achievement of each of the women in this book. To us, they are all gutsy women -- leaders with the courage to stand up to the status quo, ask hard questions, and get the job done. So in the moments when the long haul seems awfully long, we hope you will draw strength from these stories. Because if history shows one thing, it's that the world needs gutsy women.
Suggested by Richard Harrison, Research & Information Services
The Good Fight by Shirley Chisholm
Chisholm describes being the first woman, and first black woman, to run for President, and how politicians operate. She writes about her relationships with black political leaders Walter Fauntroy, Louis Stokes, Ron Dellums, and Julian Bond. She gives her views on what direction black politics should take in the years to come.
Suggested by Megan Haught, Student Learning & Engagement/Research & Information Services
Unapologetic: a Black, queer, and feminist mandate for radical movements by Charlene A. Carruthers
Drawing on Black intellectual and grassroots organizing traditions, including the Haitian Revolution, the US civil rights movement, and LGBTQ rights and feminist movements, Carruthers challenges all of us engaged in the social justice struggle to make the movement for Black liberation more radical, more queer, and more feminist. She offers a flexible model of what deeply effective organizing can be, anchored in the Chicago model of activism, which features long-term commitment, cultural sensitivity, creative strategizing, and multiple cross-group alliances.
Suggested by Megan Haught, Student Learning & Engagement/Research & Information Services
Unmarriageable by Soniah Kamal
In this retelling of Pride and Prejudice set in modern-day Pakistan, Alys Binat has sworn never to marry--until an encounter with one Mr. Darsee at a wedding makes her reconsider. A scandal and vicious rumor in the Binat family have destroyed their fortune and prospects for desirable marriages, but Alys, the second and most practical of the five Binat daughters, has found happiness teaching English literature to schoolgirls. Knowing that many of her students won't make it to graduation before dropping out to marry and start having children, Alys teaches them about Jane Austen and her other literary heroes and hopes to inspire them to dream of more.
Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections
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3 Golden Rules.
On Ethical disappointments.
I was raised to be tolerant. To consider the views and opinions of others, to keep and open mind. I was a social outsider (homeschooled due to racism in the local school.) I vowed I wouldn’t ever exclude people for being different to me or having different values. I was desperate to make and keep friends. More than anything.
I was 15 in the late 1990s. Lonely as hell. I decided that I would befriend absolutely anyone who would have me. Essentially anyone who wouldn’t beat me up on sight for being foreign.
I decided that I had 3 and only 3 dealbreakers in terms of friendship.
RULE 1. They couldn’t be cruel to animals.
RULE 2. They coudn’t sexually abuse children.
RULE 3 They couldn’t be a card carrying Nazi.
If anyone in my life did any of those things I couldn’t associate with them anymore. But barring that I would try to accept them as individuals.
Thats a pretty low bar right? I mean how could anyone fail to meet those insanely low standards?
See back then I didn’t know that shades of grey existed. I knew in theory that we were all imperfect beings, but I didn’t know what that meant yet in reality.
So I began to make friends. With normal kids. Actually probably nicer than average kids because they were sweet and sensitive enough to accept me for who I was when no one else would.
So the first hurdle I came across was that some of these people I was friends with enjoyed hunting. They would say for meat. I get that. Better than factory farming right? less cruel, less wasteful.
“You shouldn’t eat meat unless you’re willing to kill it yourself” They’d say virtuously.
But then I saw them in action. Delighting in the act of killing in a way that I knew wasn’t healthy. Laughing at the kid goat’s head bursting in a shower of gore or the way an animal screamed upon being shot. Killing more than they needed… That’s an impulse I don’t believe humans should engender in themselves.
But it was for food. Right? So I overlooked it and silenced the voice in my heart.
One day my best friend shot a stray cat with his bb gun just for the laugh. It didn’t kill the cat or anything but the animal yelped and ran away. I was so upset and shocked that I burst into tears and it all came pouring out. Was he training himself to become a sociopath? I asked him.
He apologised. He never did anything like it again. He was very kind to animals, especially cats, ever since and doesn’t hunt them anymore for any reason.
I forgave.
That’s the first time I remember compromising a core value. It was like a tooth being pulled from my 15 year old head.
I don’t regret it.
We’re still best friends.
The second hurdle that started to crack my young heart was the undeniable fact that in the early 2000s almost every guy I knew in his early 20s had a girlfriend between that ages of 12 and 15. NEVER OLDER. I can’t stress this enough. They would vomit in disgust at the thought of a crone of 18 or 19. They were also VERY vocal about their desire and right to have sex with children after a few drinks. By the time I was 20 I knew I had aged out of the 20s dating pool. I wasn’t attracted to older men.
No matter. I’m asexual and prefer platonic relationships anyway.
To this day I’ve never had a romantic relationship with a man. Because once I realised that Rule 2 wasn’t one any of them could keep, the trust was broken.
It wasn’t only men either. My closest girlfriend was a 26 year old substitute teacher who fucked one of her 15 year old students on a drunk night out once…
So they both had fun and boys that age are up for anything right? I mean. He probably still boasts about it today…
Right?
Plus… She was all I had. Like the only one I had at the time. I was so scared of losing her.
I turned a blind eye and ear. I tolerated. I didn’t have to approve of their teenage girlfriends did I? After all there were so many of them that if I cut them out of my life I’d have no friends ever again. Because the whole of society looked like them…
Thats the truth.
People in my extended family have dated 17 or 18 year old girls and encouraged them to drop out of school to have their children. People I love have done that.
I once knew a handsome, intelligent and charming man. He was dating a family member for a few months. He often defended the right of adult men to date teens. “Girls mature more quickly than boys.” He’d argue. Everyone would agree. After all hadn’t my great grandmother been 12 years old when she met my great grandfather and married him on her 16th birthday (with parental permission)? He was in his 20s. Just a boy himself surely? “We all know what children boys in their 20s are right?” Said my Mother… Whom I love very much.
Excuses were made.
Years later I discovered the the handsome, intelligent and charming man had been raping a 6 year old the entire time we’d known him. He is still wanted by the police today.
My father tells that when he was a boy of 18 back in the 70s he had kicked an older German man, a respected family friend, out of his car because the man had asked him to pull over, he had something important to tell him. When he did so, the man said that the Holocaust was a myth. An exaggeration, a Zionist hoax.
My Father was dating my mother at the time. She’s Jewish. So is his uncle, a Holocaust survivor.
He yelled at the man not to talk shit and made him walk home.
I am not my father.
The first time a Holocaust denier (a respected local businessman) voiced their opinion to me I froze. Then laughed. Surely he must be kidding... I argued briefly before realising that he’d made up his mind.
My well meaning people said I’d made a mistake. It was my job, they said, to change his mind. To educate him. Otherwise how would he learn?
I didn’t speak to him again but I still nod at him in the street because he employs a few of my friends and I wouldn’t want to make things awkward for them.
And also I don’t want him to yell at me.
I have worked with Holocaust survivors and have survivors in my immediate family and I still nod in the street at a Holocaust Denier because we are raised to be polite aren’t we? Let’s not make a scene.
We’re mature adults.
Aren’t we?
People are starting to turn weirder than they used to be. Politically.
My Leftist friends are in a secret facebook group... Strenuously defending China’s Uyghur genocide because Communism can do no wrong… And at the same time saying all the Israelis need to be killed for what they’ve done to the Palestinians. One suggests a biological weapon tailored to Jews.
My Centrist friends are suggesting we “Hang up democracy for a while” in order to combat global warming and welcome a global police state and stop “kicking off” about our rights all the time. “Maybe we need a jackboot up the arse” one of them says.
And the ones that aren’t on the Left?
My facebook feed these days is getting awfully full of Rothschild memes.
“We own every bank in the world and funded both sides of every war since Waterloo.” They say, next to a grinning caricature of Jacob de Rothschild. Reminiscent of a Nazi cartoon of a “Rat Jew.”
Even a hedge fund billionaire prick doesn’t deserve that, does he?
I don’t comment. What’s the point? They’ve watched all the youtube and don’t read history books on principal.
My Brother is getting into Qanon. So is my Sister in Law.
She follows the medical teachings of a man who thinks the Jews invented Chemotherapy to kill the Germans after the war. Apparently he is becoming more and more popular.
Eccentrics.
Thats all.
I’m half Jewish. Like My Brother.
One of the Survivors I know said that 3 weeks after the Nazi propaganda came into the school he attended, he was in Bergen Belsen and half his family was dead.
His neighbour was jealous because his father had 2 more cows than he did.
I hear Marine Le Pen is neck and neck with Macron to win France.
A good friend of mine said it's because by 2030 Muslims will outnumber white people in Europe. He won’t read the articles I send him. But he sure sends me a lot of YouTubes.
I ignore them because I don’t want to hate him. Maybe he ignores my articles for the same reason.
Hey 15 year old me…. You, skinny thing with the ethics, the braces and black eyeliner…
Those compromises I made were made out of love... And also fear.
Please stop looking at me like that little girl.
“It’s true” writes my friend. They’re trying to breed us out. It’s all an elite Zionist plot.”
I close Whatsapp.
Here I go again I guess…
#confessions#ethics#morality#standards#autobiography#adolecence#musings#writing#depressed#memories#friendship#bullying#Animal abuse#child abuse#nazism#racism#sociopathy#politics#anti semitism#mental health#1990s#facisim#leftist#centrism#uigharmuslims#china#authoritarian#hunting#democracy#israel
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♫ ♪ Spotify playlist : Ella changed the Name — Previously named : Cut ; by eviewivi
Date of creation : December 2017 — 3h6m
Let’s start from the beginning.
— —
· Who am I?
My name is Evie.
It was not my given name. I chose it myself. I always wanted a long name, like “Isabella” or “Elisabeth”, but I was given Eve. So I decided to add another letter to it to make it longer (age 4/5).
Some of my diplomas say “Evie”, and others say “Eve”. My passport says “Eve” whereas my social insurance card says “Evie”.
It’s a bit of a mess.
— —
I was born in 1995, in London and moved to the South of France with my family (age 8).
My parents are both English (although they enjoy saying they’re French since they have duel nationality now). I have 2 older sisters and 1 older brother.
At the age of 8, I remember that I could count up to 30 in French and say “Bonjour”. That was about it. I was put in a French school straight away and it was scary at first.
— —
Learning to speak French came naturally as I was young. The grammar was a little harder, and I still have difficulty with it today.
I actually have difficulty in English too. I often make mistakes.
Being born in one country and moving to another can sometimes be confusing.
“Are you French?” Not really…
“English?” Neither…
“So what are you?” Good question.
You often get asked the same questions.
“Do you think in English or French?”
“Do you dream in English or French?”
“Do you prefer England or France?”
I don’t mind it though, they find it interesting.
— —
· What happed?
This is a difficult question. I’m not too sure as I am still discovering things everyday.
I am not writing this, cured from my mental illness. I am writing this, still going through tough times, trying to get better everyday.
I am writing this as a sort of therapy, to help myself and maybe others.
To understand myself better, for family and friends to understand me better and maybe for people to relate to.
Writing has never been my strong point but whether you are good at it or not, I do find it helps. You get to express yourself freely, like dancing, or painting or creating music… any form of art really.
— —
So back to the question : what happened?
In 2018, I was diagnosed with a mental illness I had never heard of before in my life : Borderline Personality Disorder.
— —
· How did this all start?
After finishing a Sound Engineering course back in 2015 (Montpellier, FR), I went back home to my parents house to look for a job in the music industry.
It was very hard to find a job with no work experience at all. It was a catch 22 situation : I needed a job to gain experience but couldn’t get a job without any prior experience.
I would end up playing The Sims everyday in my one piece pajamas. Drinking Desperados in the evening while dreaming of moving to Sydney.
My parents quickly noticed I was not being very productive, and gave me a speech.
I would often check Facebook and see my best friend at the time, having the time of her life as an Au Pair in London.
I was jealous.
— —
In October 2015, I took a plane to London to become an Au Pair.
I was an Au Pair for about 2 years in London, and it was so much fun.
I made friends with other Au Pairs from all over the world that were so lovely. We would go out to bars, concerts, parks, museums, festivals and so much more.
— —
Then I met Julien.
This part is difficult to write about as it is still very painful and I have forgotten a lot.
My therapist told me it’s hard to remember what hurt you so much. I find that to be true in this situation, but I’ll try my best.
— —
I’ve never had a boyfriend in my life. And I was 22 years old.
My brother created an online profile for me on a website called OKCupid. He told me that it wasn’t just for dating, but you could also make friends.
I met Julien on OKCupid. His username was “JulienB26” (his last name started with a B and he was 26… I know, very creative…). Mine was “BurnTogether” (the name of a music album I was OBSESSED with at the time)
He was not my type at all, but sent me the sweetest, most personal message I had ever received, so I thought “why not?”
We met in a rock bar in Camden Town called The Worlds End, and it was fun. We got on straight away and it was my best first date ever.
Long story short we ended up dating.
After only about a month, I left my Au Pair family and moved in with him in Notting Hill. He met my family and I met his.
My parents adored him! He seemed so perfect. He was cultured, dressed nicely, polite, had a good job, a nice and tidy apartment…
He wasn’t that perfect though.
— —
He smoked a lot of weed, was addicted to online video games and extremely jealous.
I remember one time when I was typing to my friend at the time, he snatched my phone out of my hands to see what I was writing. It was quite aggressive and I did not like it at all.
— —
My Au Pair friend Pri invited me one day to spend time with her and our new Au Pair friend to go out to pubs near London Bridge.
I refused, as Julien didn’t want me to go. He didn’t like Pri.
We (Julien and I) went to the rock bar we first met at instead. It was not fun. We didn’t have much left in common.
I felt the relationship slowly dying and there was a lot about him I did not like anymore. But breaking up with him was not an option.
I got drunk. I often drank. I liked it so much and would drink too much, too often.
The following day I saw about 5 to 10 messages from my friend Pri.
There was a terrorist attack that very same night at London Bridge.
She managed to escape but unfortunately our Au Pair friend, did not.
— —
Pri asked me to spend the day with her, the day we found out that our friend had passed away and, of course, I went.
We drank wine together and cried.
She didn’t want to spend the night alone and asked me if I could stay with her.
I agreed and asked Julien if it was okay with him. But it was not.
It was a problem for him and he refused.
I left.
— —
Julien had been acting strange for a couple of days.
I didn’t really know what to do and didn’t want to be egocentric and assume it was because of me, but I did.
Maybe he was thinking about his father who passed away?
I didn’t know, and he wasn’t telling me anything.
— —
One day, as I came home from babysitting, and had enough. I needed to know what was wrong.
He put down his joint, told his online friends on Discord that he needed to leave and turned around from his computer to face me.
— —
This part is very hard to remember.
He told me I didn’t deserve his love as he couldn’t love me to the fullest.
He wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to end things and needed some time to think.
Our age difference was a problem for him. He thought we were in two different phases of our life.
— —
I didn’t sleep that night.
I watched Netflix and cried until I saw the sun rise.
The next following days were difficult. It was the same pattern everyday.
I woke up sad, left for work angry, came back confused and went to sleep sad.
I didn’t deserve this.
No one deserves being with someone who isn’t sure they love them and needs time to think.
So I decided to leave.
I took a train to Paris and never came back.
— —
My brother who studied art in Paris, decided to spend a year of his education in Bergen, Norway. So he had an un-used flat in Paris for a year.
I asked my parents if I could stay in the flat while looking for a job in Paris.
They agreed.
— —
I felt fresh, like a new chapter of my life was starting. I didn’t know anyone (besides my brothers friends, Julie and Yolo).
I bought healthy, organic, vegan food and bought a membership to a gym that I would go to everyday for an hour.
Things were looking good. I felt positive.
— —
I quickly found a part-time job as a receptionist for a company involved in cryptocurrency.
It was so much fun.
I loved saying hello to all the staff that walked passed my desk in the morning.
My life was good, and it got even better.
— —
I went to the company’s seminar in a grand chateau outside of Paris.
One evening, we had special places to sit for dinner. It was a way of mixing all different employees from different services to connect.
I was sat at a table with one of the Vice Presidents of the company.
He was very kind and asked me what I do outside of work and what I would like to do in the future.
I had a couple of Desperados and told him that I originally wanted to join a company in the music industry and work my way up, but since working for the company, I had fallen in love with the it and would actually like to work my way up in this company.
This was not a sneaky plan or anything. I’m not that smart.
Fortunately though, the President of the company heard my tipsy conversation and called me over.
He asked me if what I said was true. I was astonished he knew my name!
— —
About two weeks after the seminar, the Vice President of Sales approached me asking if we could have a chat.
He had heard from the President that I wanted to join the company and offered me a position in the Sales department.
I had no experience whatsoever in sales, but accepted with great pleasure.
— —
My personal life on the other hand was not going so well.
I was drinking a lot and started cutting myself with broken glass as a punishment for drinking.
But I didn’t tell anyone or do anything about it as I felt in control of the situation.
I was on OKCupid again but comparing every profile to Julien.
In the spring of whatever year it was (2018 maybe?), I went back to London to see Julien as he had some of my belongings to give back to me.
We talked and walked in Hyde Park for about two hours. I wore his favorite dress.
I told him about my amazing new job and friends I had made. I was subtly bragging about my life. I wanted him to regret letting me go. And he did. He cried so much and felt very regretful. I felt happy even though I was suffering inside.
Towards the end of the walk he told me he was seeing someone new.
I did not expect that. I was shocked.
— —
I remember taking the underground back, and crying like I have never cried before while listening to Taylor Swift.
I felt that something inside of me had changed. Something bad.
— —
After returning back to Paris things got worse. I was drinking more and cutting deeper and more often.
Julien was still texting me at the time and I was not responding as I wanted to cut the cord with him.
He didn’t understand why and I remember telling him that I had never felt this bad in my life. I had never hated myself so much and needed space.
He told me that I needed to seek professional help.
I said goodbye and blocked him.
— —
On the day of Gay Pride 2018 in Paris.
I was drinking alone.
I didn’t eat anything that day and drank a bottle of white wine alone in my flat.
I remember grabbing a glass and smashing it on the floor, collecting the sharpest piece of glass I could find and cutting and cutting and cutting.
My friend Yolo came over and saw the pieces if glass all over the kitchen floor and saw me on the floor crying and bleeding.
She called an Uber and took me to a psychiatric hospital.
I was so desperate for help that I would have gone anywhere she took me.
We had to stop the Uber half way there so I could throw up and then continue on our route.
— —
Once there I remember talking to a professional, crying, about suicidal thoughts I had.
I remember doing a lot of research at the time and discovered a website.
It had all the information I was looking for on it.
I spent a night at the hospital Saint Anne to sober up.
The following day, they let me go.
— —
Even though things were bad, I still felt 100% in control of the situation.
I would self harm and drink almost daily.
I continued doing research about suicide and the sharpest object known to man.
One day I decided to order a pack of scalpels off of Amazon. They arrived quickly.
I was so eager to try them but had to go to work that day. So I just did a small cut on my arm and wow.
I didn’t press hard at all but bled. It was so satisfying at the time.
— —
On my friend Julie’s birthday I remember coming home from work, going to the closest shop to my flat and buying two 50cl cans of Desperados. I could tell the cashier was judging me, but I did not care much.
I put on a stand up comedy show on Netflix and proceeded to drink the beer.
Then I remembered the scalpels in my bedside draw.
I had promised myself not to self-harm anymore before the summer holidays as I would be around my family in t-shirts and shorts.
But I wanted to so badly. So I did.
I said to myself that it would be just one cut on my thigh. But it had to be satisfying enough.
So I cut my thigh.
— —
I forgot that it was a scalpel and in my mind it was just a piece of broken glass.
Big mistake.
I cut too deep.
I remember seeing the white fat through the cut in my thigh.
It didn’t hurt though.
Then the blood started to flow. There was so much.
I tried to close the cut with my hands, but blood got everywhere.
I panicked.
I didn’t want to disturbed Julie on her birthday so I phoned her boyfriend (who was also my work colleague).
He calmed me down and phoned the emergencies who arrived very quickly.
— —
I went to the hospital and had to have ten stitches in my thigh.
They also made me speak to a therapist there who told me I could go home.
So I went home.
— —
I was seeing a psychiatrist for a while (since the Gay Pride event)
That told me after the 10 stitches incident that I was depressed.
I still remember the feeling of her telling me I was depressed. I was shocked and didn’t want to believe her.
I had everything under control!
She suggested I take antidepressants and I accepted. Paroxetine 10mg
— —
I worked for the company for about a year.
It was amazing.
I traveled to Berlin and London. I also attended a “Blockchain Cruise” from Barcelona to Monaco to Ibiza.
I could bring whomever I wanted from the company.
I chose Jacques.
He seemed nice.
— —
On the cruise, there was a party going on and of course, we both attended it. I was a little bit tipsy and kissed a guy on the dance floor.
I remember seeing Jacques really angry and went over to talk to him.
We were talking near the main bar on the boat.
He seemed very drunk.
He tried to kiss me but I pushed him away.
He tried again and I had to push harder.
Someone felt the need to intervene and asked me if I needed help.
I told them that everything was okay and walked Jacques back to the room.
— —
After the trip I wanted to forget that side I saw of Jacques.
So I did.
I wanted to be his friend and he wanted to be mine.
— —
One evening we were having drinks with work colleagues in a whiskey bar.
I asked Jacques, as a friend, if he wanted to spend the night at my flat.
I felt very lonely and was a bit tipsy.
I didn’t want anything to happen between us, but I understand now how he thought differently.
— —
As we were going to bed, he tried again, like on the cruise to kiss me.
I pushed him away but he was stronger.
He then proceeded to take my pajama trousers off.
I pulled them back up. He pulled them back down.
I remember his fingers inside of me. I tried pushing him off of me but he grabbed my wrists.
He then, finally, saw that I was not happy.
So thankfully, he stopped.
I pulled my trousers back up and stayed in a foetus position until I fell asleep.
— —
The next morning we walked to work together.
I didn’t feel right. Something about that night felt wrong.
I phoned Julie and told her what had happened. She was in Greece at the time.
I sent an email to my boss telling him that I didn’t feel well and asking him if I could have the day off.
He accepted and I left with my friend Yolo who met me at work.
— —
We had a lovely day. We went to the cinema, went and got massages, and later on that evening, we were at a café and my friend Julie appeared out of nowhere!
She had taken an early plane back from Greece to come and see me.
I was so happy to see her!
— —
The next week, at the end of the day at work, round 7pm, my boss asked if he could talk to me.
He told me that the President of the company had heard that I slept with a married colleague.
This has never happened and I has shocked and embarrassed.
I told him this information was not true and he believed me.
He told me to tell him if anything ever happens between me and a colleague.
I felt the need to tell him that Jacques took advantage to me. And I did.
My voice was shacking. He was angry.
After our chat, I left and went home.
— —
I don’t remember this part very well but I remember going to see my therapist very drunk with a bottle in my hand to my appointment.
She called the emergencies and they took me to a psychiatric hospital, La Maison Blanche.
— —
It was very strange at first seeing all different kinds of patients, with all different mental illnesses.
(the person is drinking water from a puddle, not praying)
— —
I stayed for about 15 days there and made some friends.
It wasn’t as bad as it first seemed.
— —
My siblings were aware of what was going on with me. But once again, I still felt under control of what was happening.
They didn’t think so, and they were right to think that.
One day I ran away of the hospital and drank cans of beer in the side walk.
That is when my siblings decided to tell my parents what was going on.
After going back inside the hospital, one of the nurses told me that my mother was on her way to see me, she took a 4h train to come.
She had no idea what was going on before. It must have been a terrible shock for her.
I felt so scared and embarrassed for her to see me in this blue outfit they had given me but they refused to give me back my clothes.
— —
It was extremely difficult to balance my work and personal mental health.
I was coming to terms with my depression and accepting that I was, in fact, never in control of anything that was happening to me.
— —
After leaving the hospital, I went back to work.
It was very awkward at first.
The President of the company asked to speak with me about my long absence.
I didn’t want to go into details, so I just mentioned that I was at the hospital without saying why, or what kind of hospital…
Later that same day, someone from human resources also asked to speak to me.
She was asking is everything was okay and I told her what my therapist had told me to say, that I had a really sore throat.
Now looking back at it, I know that she knew exactly where I was. In a psychiatric hospital.
The papers the hospital were giving to my company to cover my absence, had the address on them.
So she knew…
— —
One day, my boss got fired out of the blue. He was such an amazing person and work colleague. He didn’t deserve this.
Later that month, my other Sales colleague, also got fired.
Cryptocurrency was not doing as well as it was before, and the company was slowly dying.
I was next to get fired.
It was the day before my birthday.
I remember my new, less cool boss, asked me to have a word with him and a person from HR.
I honestly thought at the time that I was getting a raise. Lol.
The conversation was very awkward, it lasted about 15 minutes. I don’t remember much of what was said.
They told me to leave straight away and not mention to anyone that I got fired.
I told my friend/colleague on Slack before leaving the building.
He was worried he was next to get fired.
So I sent him a brief message saying “turns out you were right about the Sales team getting fired. I have to leave now. Please don’t tell anyone.”
I left and went home.
— —
As I got home I lay on the sofa staring into oblivion.
I wanted to cry. I said to myself that this is a situation most people would cry.
But it was so hard to shed a tear.
I felt numb.
— —
I phoned my mother and told her what had happened. She was worried I would do something bad.
I invited my friend, Alienor, that I made from the hospital over, and we drank beer and took cocaine.
My father phoned me.
He could hear by my voice that I had drank.
My parents contacted Yolo to come pick me up and take me back to the hospital by Uber.
I felt obliged to go with her, so I went and Alienor left.
I only stayed one night or maybe two. I don’t really remember.
— —
I continued living in Paris for a couple of months, without a job.
I would drink everyday. Cans of Heineken beer.
I would wake up and drink straight away, while watching BoJack Horseman.
Then I would fall asleep around 6pm.
Everyday was the same pattern. Beer and BoJack.
— —
I had stopped self harming, as I had promised myself since the 10 stitches to never start again. But suicide was still a big subject in my mind.
The website I had discovered, has the most common methods of suicide in order of success rate. And hanging myself seemed like an okay technique.
I wanted to test it out without actually killing myself.
I know it sounds weird.
I wanted to try and see if it was doable without actually doing it all the way.
——
I took the cotton belt off from my work trousers. I thought to myself that I wouldn’t need it anymore, as I don’t have a job anymore.
I tied a knot around my clothes hanger in my wardrobe, and tied the other side around my neck.
Then, I very gently bent my legs (as I could touch the floor).
The next thing I remember is waking up with the belt around my neck, in my wardrobe.
Saliva was all over my mouth. Snot was dripping from my nose.
It scared me.
I couldn’t undo the tight knot around my neck so cut it off with a pair of kitchen scissors.
I threw the belt in the bin and laid in my bed in a state of shock.
I phoned a friend at the time, and told him what just happened to me.
He came over and we talked about it.
— —
I liked him, he promised not to tell anyone and let me drink.
Yolo and Julie where more worried and protective. They would judge how much I would drink, and I didn’t really like that.
— —
One day, a colleague/friend of mine was organizing a small party at his house with about 8 people.
Julie, her boyfriend, Yolo and I all went along with other ex-work colleagues.
I got drunk quickly. And when I drank, I would talk too much.
I told a friend/ex-work colleague that I tried to hang myself the other day just to try it out but ended up fainting.
— —
Later that evening, I went home to my flat and fell asleep.
Around 3 in the morning, my door bell rang.
I didn’t know who it was, but opened the door all tired.
It was Julie, Yolo and another friend.
They were really worried about me.
What I had said at that party has gotten out, and everyone knew about it.
They told me I needed to go back to the hospital.
So I did the very next morning.
— —
I went back to The Maison Blanche, and stayed there for 12 nights.
One of the male nurses saw me and asked why I was back, again.
I told him what had happened and he was very nice. He gave me advice and listened to me.
He mentioned that we should go out for drinks once I get out of the hospital. I agreed and gave him my number.
— —
We texted that night, while I was in my hospital bed.
Our text messages were very flirtatious.
The next following days we had sexual relations in my hospital room, and in the storage room.
— —
Once I left La Maison Blanche, I invited Alienor over to drink and take cocaine.
And I told her about my romantic affair I had at the hospital.
She didn’t seem surprised. She told me that another female patient had sexual relations with a nurse there too, and she wondered if it was the same nurse. So did I.
We sent a message to the girl in question and asked her to describe the male nurse she had relations with.
It was him. Paul. And she was 17.
— —
This suddenly felt wrong and I had to tell someone. So I told my mother about Paul and also Jacques.
She was really angry. More so about Paul the nurse than Jacques. But I felt the opposite.
I didn’t feel taken advantage of by Paul. But Jaques really hurt me.
My mother wanted me to report both of them to the police, so I did.
— —
My parents didn’t trust me living alone in such a big city so far away. I needed help.
In May 2019 I want to Rehab for alcohol and cocaine addiction.
I spent one month there. It was much nicer than the hospital. They had a ping-ping table, a chess set and many more activities.
I spent a month in Rehab and it was really nice to be away from alcohol.
Alcohol affected me in bad ways.
I would say so many things I regret. I would hurt myself and make bad decisions.
I drank so much that when I didn’t, I would uncontrollably shake and feel faintish.
Rehab made me want to stop forever.
— —
My mother would visit me often and it was lovely to see her. She was very supportive.
After leaving Rehab, it was time for me to leave Paris forever and move back in with my parents down South of France.
I needed to not be alone. I needed help.
— —
I moved back into my old bedroom with my vinyls and The White Stripes posters. It was comforting.
I was now taking more medication : Paroxetine (20mg) and Abilify (5mg).
And it was making me feel better.
My mother wanted me to see one of the best therapists in France.
So I started seeing a new psychiatrist in Bordeaux, FR (1h away by train) every two weeks.
At first we did not get along.
I wanted him to help me forget about my ex, but he explained that it was not possible to forget the past, you must accept it as part of you, like a scar.
He wanted me start writing about my feelings in a journal. I was not good at it and did not enjoy it. But I did it anyway.
— —
A few months later, I was starting to feel much better and stronger.
My therapist was really helping me, and so was my family.
I decided it was time to find a job near my parents house.
In October 2019, I found a job as an Exhibition Assistant for a company in events.
I was saving up to move to Sydney, Australia. To start a new life far away. To a place I’ve always wanted to go to.
I’ve never been to Australia but didn’t care.
— —
Working for this company was not fun, and a lot of pressure. They wanted to me make a minimum of 200 phone calls a day. And I hated being on the phone.
I told my therapist about my job being very pressurizing and he told me to quite and move to Sydney sooner.
That sounded like a great plan! I was so happy about this decision.
I went home and bought myself a Working Holiday Visa.
— —
My psychiatrist decided it was time to stop my medication as I was doing really well.
So I stopped them gradually.
The withdraw effects were a nightmare.
I was sweating, felt nauseous, had diarrhea, felt extremely emotional…
But that only lasted for about 2 weeks.
I was so happy that I wasn’t taking any medication anymore!
I felt on top of the world.
— —
For New Years Eve, I decided to go see my old friends from when I was doing my Sound Engineering course.
I told them about what had happened to me, and I could see it made them sad. They told me that I was such a happy person before. That I didn’t deserve this.
I told them I was fine now and that it was in the past.
I didn’t drink on NYE and they respected that. But I felt odd. I felt numb for some reason. They loved me so much and expressed it. But I didn’t seem to feel the same way. I used to. But not anymore. I didn’t feel love for anyone and that worried me. I felt like a ghost.
— —
My mother picked me up and could tell that I was different.
I went to work the following day and did not feel well at all.
I could feel it all coming back. I was so scared and ashamed of relapsing. But I knew I was.
I told my boss that I wasn’t feeling well and she let me go home.
I got back home and told my parents : I think I’m depressed again…
— —
I saw my therapist again and every session he would read what I wrote.
This was the last time I wrote in my diary.
He closed my black book and called my mother in.
He told me I needed to go back to a psychiatric hospital.
— —
My parents drove me back home from Bordeaux after that session and we packed a suitcase and went to the nearest psychiatric hospital. La Candelie in Agen.
I remember hearing my therapist on the phone to the hospital telling them I have Borderline Personality Disorder. I had no idea what that was.
— —
I arrived at La Candelie and spent 7 weeks there.
I was not in a good state of mind.
I tried hanging myself multiple times there in the shower but couldn’t let go of all of my weight by bending my legs. I just couldn’t.
I cut myself often and managed to bring in Vodka.
It was a mess.
— —
They put me in the isolation room for one night.
The isolation room was horrific.
They gave me paper pajamas that would rip with the slightest movement.
The door was locked and I had a bucket to pee in.
I was not allowed a pillow or a blanket. It was so cold and my pajamas were ripped everywhere.
The next morning, I saw a psychiatrist from the hospital and told him that I was fine and just being dramatic. I did not want to go back there.
— —
After 7 long weeks I was finally allowed out.
It was a long time.
I was now on even more medication : Paroxetine, Abilify, Tercian, Alprazolam and Mirtazapine.
I felt so numb. Better, but numb.
Australia was not an option anymore. Not for a while anyway.
— —
Once I left the hospital, I was obliged to have a nurse come to my parents house every morning and evening to make sure that I take all my medication properly.
I also had to go a psychological-medical center once a week.
I got tired of explaining what happened when, where and why. It was hard to remember. So I decided to write all the bullet points down on a piece of paper.
— —
· Where am I now?
Today is the 13th of May 2021. I still suffer from my mental illness even though I wish it was all in the past.
I’m currently taking Mirtazapine, Abilify and Alprazolam and only see a nurse once a week to restock on medication.
My therapist appointments have been elongated to once a month.
I haven’t self harmed in about a year.
I do however still have episodes with suicidal thoughts, but they are less severe.
My therapist from Paris once told me that you will have ups and downs, but with time the ups will be less up and the downs less down.
It’s starting to make sense now.
I currently live in a small city called Agen (30m drive from my parents house) with my boyfriend Yann. He’s the best.
We met through an old friend of mine that I reconnected with last year.
I still don’t have many friends where I live, as they are all over the place (Montpellier, London and Paris)
— —
My mother took an online course about Borderline Personality Disorder, which I really appreciate. I feel like maybe she understands a part of me more.
— —
Julie left Paris and moved to Montpellier to become a Yoga instructor. She and her boyfriend are still together, building their new life in the South of France.
— —
Yolo is still in Paris, she recently got a job as a video editor for a cool company. She’s doing great.
— —
Pri is still in London, not as an Au Pair anymore but as a chef by day, and an Art Salon organizer by night. She’s always been very productive and I admire that.
— —
Alienor unfortunately is back in the hospital in Paris, La Maison Blanche, as she tried to commit suicide by jumping off of a bridge above train rails. She lost both of her legs and one arm, but thankfully survived.
— —
The criminal cases concerning Jacques and Paul the nurse, are still going on. It’s been a very long process but I hope it ends soon.
— —
I don’t have any news at all regarding Julien and do not plan on having any.
— —
· Why am I writing this?
Like I wrote at the beginning of this, longer than expected text, about my mental health, I am writing this for me, my family and friends and hopefully others who may relate to it and seek help if they need it.
I often mentioned that I felt under control of the situation, but I was wrong. So maybe someone reading this might make the decision to seek help.
I have no words to describe how thankful I am to the people who helped me.
This is not a suicide note, it’s the opposite. It’s a “life” note.
A note to remind me that some days can be nice and happy, but others can be very, very hard. But you must go on. You must keep on fighting. It might seem like an endless battle but it gets better.
Sometimes that’s hard to see. But I see it now.
#borderline life#borderline personality traits#bpd#borderline personality disorder#mental health#mental illness#addiction#love#love story
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Q&A Windermere Children: BBC marks Holocaust Memorial Day and the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau
Iain Glen alongside creative partners.... The made-for-tv feature will be broadcasted in the UK and Germany January 27 2020.... Frankly it moves me (and does not surprise me) to see IG being part of this large scale commemorative event.
https://www.pressparty.com/pg/newsdesk/BBC1/view/201152/
BBC marks Holocaust Memorial Day and the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau
The BBC is marking Holocaust Memorial Day (27 January 2020) and the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau with a special televised Holocaust Memorial Day event, as well as a range of content across TV and radio.
The BBC is producing the national Holocaust Memorial Day event on behalf of the Holocaust Memorial Day Trust with the theme of Stand Together.
Other programme highlights include a major new drama telling the story of the Windermere Children, child survivors of the Nazi Holocaust; Robert Rinder helping second and third generations of families who experienced the Holocaust retrace their relatives’ footstep; David Baddiel investigating the history and modern face of Holocaust denial; a moving documentary exploring the untold story of the infamous Bergen-Belsen concentration camp; a special edition of Words And Music on BBC Radio 3.
Tony Hall, Director-General of the BBC, says: "This is an important moment to stop and reflect on a period in our history which showed both the worst, and the best, of the human spirit. That's why we've invested in drama, documentary and events to mark the 75th anniversary. We'll be telling new stories, as well as sharing first-hand testimonies from those who lived through the horror of the concentration camps.
"It's our responsibility as the nation's public service broadcaster to bring these stories to new generations - and I'd like to thank the Holocaust Memorial Day Trust, and our European media partners, for their invaluable support. Together, we're offering everyone the chance to reflect on the consequences of prejudice and hatred, and in doing so we'll ensure that the millions of lives lost in the Holocaust are not forgotten."
Olivia Marks-Woldman, Chief Executive of the Holocaust Memorial Day Trust, says: "We are delighted to be working with the BBC to enable millions of people across the country to learn more about the Holocaust, Nazi Persecution and more recent genocides through the broadcast of the national ceremony for Holocaust Memorial Day (HMD), as well as additional factual programming.
"At a time when identity-based prejudice and hostility is worryingly prevalent in the UK and internationally, HMD is an opportunity to learn about the consequences of hatred when it is allowed to exist unchecked. At this important moment, 75 years after the liberation of Auschwitz, we are asking people to Stand Together against prejudice, and in memory of those who were murdered during the Holocaust, under Nazi Persecution and in genocides which have taken place since."
UK Ceremony for Holocaust Memorial Day
The Holocaust Memorial Day Trust’s annual event honours survivors of the Holocaust, Nazi Persecution, and the genocides which followed in Cambodia, Rwanda, Bosnia and Darfur. The Ceremony will be broadcast on Holocaust Memorial Day itself, 27 January 2020, and will be a particularly significant event due to notable anniversaries - marking 75 years since the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau and the 25th anniversary of the genocide in Bosnia. The ceremony is the focal point of Holocaust Memorial Day in the UK. This year, it will focus on the theme Stand Together, with the Ceremony including readings, poetry, music and testimony from survivors of the Holocaust and genocide.
My Family, The Holocaust and Me (BBC One)
In this moving new two-part series, Robert Rinder helps second and third generations of families who experienced the Holocaust to retrace their relatives’ footsteps and discover the full truth about what happened to them. Robert also explores further his own family’s Holocaust stories, on both his mum’s and his dad’s sides.
This series reveals what it means to be the children and grandchildren of Holocaust victims and survivors. Robert meets three different British Jewish families who have been affected by the Holocaust: a man who wants to know what happened to his German grandparents and uncle; two sisters who investigate their grandmother’s role in the Dutch resistance and the fate of her sister; and a daughter who knows her mother was arrested as a child by the Nazis as she tried to flee France.
Robert also embarks on his own journeys of discovery. To find out what happened to his paternal family, he travels to Lithuania and hears a harrowing eye-witness account. Robert also travels with his mother Angela to Treblinka, to meet the last remaining survivor of the former Nazi death camp and to commemorate his great-grandfather and his family.
The Windermere Children (BBC Two)
August, 1945. A coachload of children arrive at the Calgarth Estate by Lake Windermere, England. They are child survivors of the Nazi Holocaust that has devastated Europe’s Jewish population. Carrying only the clothes they wear and a few meagre possessions, they bear the emotional and physical scars of all they have suffered.
From Bafta-nominated screenwriter Simon Block and Bafta and Emmy-winning director Michael Samuels, The Windermere Children is the first dramatisation of a remarkable true story about hope in the aftermath of the Holocaust, based on the powerful first-person testimony of survivors who began their new lives in the UK.
The drama is led by a stellar cast including Thomas Kretschmann (The Pianist), Romola Garai (The Miniaturist), Tim McInnerny (Strangers) and Iain Glen (Game Of Thrones).
Charged with looking after the children is child psychologist Oscar Friedmann (Kretschmann). Along with his team of counsellors, including art therapist Marie Paneth (Garai), philanthropist Leonard Montefiore (McInnerny) and sports coach Jock Lawrence (Glen), they have four months to help the children reclaim their lives.
By the lake, the children learn English, play football, ride bikes, express their trauma through painting – and begin to heal. some locals taunt them, but they are embraced by others. Haunted by nightmares, they yearn for news of their loved ones. When the red cross arrives with letters about the fates of their families, none of them receive good news. But in the absence of relatives, the children find family in each other.
The Windermere Children is the stark, moving and ultimately redemptive story of the bonds the children make with one another, and of how the friendships forged at Windermere sustain them as they rebuild their lives in the UK.
Confronting Holocaust Denial with David Baddiel (BBC Two)
The Holocaust is one of the most documented, witnessed and written about events in history, so why is Holocaust denial back on the political agenda? What has happened in the 75 years since the liberation of the camps to have so skewed the picture? And, if it matters, why does it matter?
In this timely and important film, Holocaust Denial: A History With David Baddiel (w/t), for BBC Two, David (pictured, top of page) investigates the history and modern face of Holocaust denial. He talks to academics and historians to trace how denial has evolved since the end of the Second World War and try to discover how and why people are still denying the Holocaust today.
Over the course of the film David encounters people who cause him to question deep-rooted opinions, others who lend extra weight to beliefs he’s grown up with from childhood - and some he really would rather not meet at all. He broaches taboos and finds himself in often uncomfortable situations. At the heart of the film are his attempts to answer some fundamental questions: why does a desire to deny the events of the Holocaust even exist? Why is it growing? What does it tell us about anti-Semitism? Is there a version of Holocaust Denial that is becoming respectable? And how can we best counter these ideas?
Finally he emerges with a new perspective on an issue that goes beyond the events of the Holocaust, and sheds light on a very 21st century malaise - the denial of historical fact. For many, even to explore the phenomenon of Holocaust Denial is to unlock a box marked 'do not open'. But this film suggests that exploring this archetype of lies, conspiracy theory and fake news could deepen our understanding of our post-truth world.
Belsen: Our Story (BBC Two)
Belsen: Our Story is a one-hour documentary film telling the untold story of the infamous Bergen-Belsen concentration camp where over 50,000 people, mostly Jews, died primarily from starvation and disease in the last phase of World War II.
As the Allied troops advanced into Germany through the winter of 1944, thousands of Jewish prisoners were evacuated from camps near the Eastern front, mostly through brutal forced marches. Bergen-Belsen’s population increased eight-fold to nearly 60,000. But unlike the infamous extermination or death camps such as Auschwitz or Treblinka, Belsen wasn’t designed as a place of killing. It had no gas chambers. Instead, the prisoners were slaughtered by systematic neglect - many starved to death, others succumbed to typhus, tuberculosis, typhoid fever or dysentery, diseases which ravaged the camp, fostered by the lack of clean drinking water and minimal sanitation.
All that remains of Belsen today is a peaceful, grassy meadow, but it’s legacy lives on through the recollections of those who survived it. Belsen: Our Story is their story. Featuring powerful new interviews with some of the last remaining survivors of the Holocaust and dramatic reconstructions, it also includes archive of the British liberation. Those liberators recount the moment they stumbled into the horror of Belsen, the piles of unburied bodies, the epidemics of disease, such the British army felt they had no choice but to burn Bergen Belsen to the ground - inadvertently reducing much of the evidence of the Nazis crimes to ashes. The oral histories of Belsen: Our Story ensures that story is not forgotten.
The Windermere Children: In Their Own Words (BBC Four)
The Windermere Children: In Their Own Wordstells the story of the pioneering project to rehabilitate child survivors of the Holocaust on the shores of Lake Windermere.
In the year that marks the 75th anniversary of the end of World War II and the Holocaust, this powerful documentary reveals a little-known story of 300 young orphaned Jewish refugees who began new lives in England’s Lake District in the summer of 1945. The documentary accompanies the BBC Two drama, The Windermere Children.
With compelling first-hand testimony from some of the last living Holocaust survivors, this film explores an extraordinary success story that emerged from the darkest of times, all beginning with the arrival of ten Stirling bombers carrying the 300 children from Prague to Carlisle on 14 August 1945.
The survivor interviews include extraordinary first-hand accounts of both their wartime experiences, separation from families and the horrors they experienced, but also their wonder at arriving in Britain and their lives thereafter.
With powerful contemporary resonance, the film will reveal that many of the 300 who arrived as bewildered young refugees without a word of English or many possessions, and went on to forge successful lives in Britain, starting families of their own and giving back to the country that welcomed them in extraordinary ways.
Words and Music: Commemorating The Liberation Of Auschwitz
Sunday 26 January, 5.30pm-6.45pm
BBC Radio 3
Radio 3’s weekly journey of discovery weaving together a range of music with poetry and prose read by leading actors.
In this special edition of Words And Music, marking the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, readers Henry Goodman and Maria Friedman read poetry and prose about life and death at the most notorious Nazi concentration camp and what the moment of liberation was like when the Russian soldiers arrived 75 years ago.
We'll hear from survivors like Primo Levi and Victor Frankl, who paint vivid pictures of life at Auschwitz and from Anita Lasker-Wallfisch, who played the cello in the Auschwitz Women's Orchestra. She once played Schumann's Träumerei for Dr Josef Mengele, who came to be known as 'the angel of death'.
Music was a major part of concentration-camp life, we'll hear about the fate of Auschwitz's Roma Orchestra and the unexpected presence of Tango at Auschwitz. You'll hear an early recording of the first song to be written in a concentration camp, the Peat Bog Soldiers, and some of the Yiddish tangos popular at the time. There will also be songs by Ilse Weber, who wrote music for the children of the Theresienstadt camp, and sang to those walking to their deaths in the gas chambers of Auschwitz.
Poetry by survivors András Mezei and Annette Blialik Harchik reminds us that liberation was the end of a hellish journey, but living with the aftermath of the holocaust was a burden which would be carried long after the camps were destroyed.
SOURCE
BBC ONE
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74 years ago today, she went from being enslaved, to being free. She celebrates this day every year as her birthday
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
In Bergen Belsen, she sat with her mother and sister, and other jewish prisoners, and tried to recite what they remembered by heart from the seder. When they got to the we were slaves (in Egypt) song, they stopped, and cried, confounded. They were PRESENTLY slaves.
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
The irony was too much. But they continued. They sang all night in the hopes that one day soon they would truly be free. That like the Jews in Egypt, they would be freed from their enslavement.
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
Right before liberation, my grandmother developed typhus. She was brought to the nazi’s ersatz infirmary. The system was as followed: she has a few days to recover and get back to work. If she got sicker, she would be left to die or killed by a German bullet
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
She was totally confused. How was this happening in Bergen Belsen, a Nazi concentration camp?
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
She was totally confused. How was this happening in Bergen Belsen, a Nazi concentration camp?
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
The group was interested in one data point: did survivors want to return to Europe, go to America, or flee to Palestine?
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
The group didn’t believe that he was representing the results accurately. What happened next was nothing short of heart wrenching.
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
My grandfather asked the survivor. The survivor said: I want to go eretz yisroel. The committee pressed my grandfather to ask the survivor where he would want to go if israel were not an option
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
The committee left soon after. They reported the results. The Jews had an unwavering connection to the land of the israel. It was not something that could be severed.
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
Aside from her mother and sister, her only surviving family had moved from Lithuania to Mexico City long before the war
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
She wrote a letter to a person she didn’t know but assumed existed, explained the circumstances, and asked him to pass on the letter to her family. When the British came around collecting letters, and saw she had one with no address, no name, just “Chief Rabbi, Mexico City” they
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
Fast forward a short time later, my grandmother, her mother, sister, and new husband, moved to Mexico. My father was born a couple years later.
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
She lives in Jerusalem, Israel. For years while she was able, she taught at Yad Vashem, Israel’s Holocaust museum. She has written many articles and several books. She sees it as her mission to tell the world what happened.
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
Another one of her books, “a fenster tzum gehonim”, a window into hell, is about the war years
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
This year, I’ll spend Passover in israel with my husband, my aunt and uncle, my cousins, and my grandmother. I’ll sit with her, at the table, singing “ we were slaves”.
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
As the Holocaust generation dies out, we — all of us, but especially us, the descendants of survivors— has a special obligation to pick up the torch, to recite their stories, to repeat their words.
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
We all sing “we were slaves” but for one of us at the table, for my grandmother, those words are literal. And the rest of us can only be grateful that she was freed.
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
Here we are in Jerusalem, 2017 pic.twitter.com/G6uvaoHvC9
— Daniella Greenbaum Davis (@DGreenbaum)
April 15, 2019
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