Left behind
He was able to stand on a big stage in front of hundreds of people and to make them smile, create music that would bring people to cry. He was able to put his demons a side and share his gift to the world. But somewhere on the way the demons took that away the moments where he would be safe, alone on the stage… and afterwards hear them calling for more… That was the time when the one person he wanted to accept him would say nice things about him… after a concert…. That were the moments he felt normal, and even though it only lasted for a little while it made the time at home with her a little better. But then somehow it became harder for him to go up there and enjoy it all…. Maybe it was because she was showing him a different kind of attention now…
But then she just left… and he felt all alone. He hated her for leaving like that and he was afraid… and he was angry with her… That fear and that anger made him believe he would never truly enjoy the stage anymore…. Anger can make people do things that at the time they won’t think they will ever regret and he truly believed that he would never have any regrets… but he was wrong… A moment in pain – one moment he felt he deserved – a moment that changed everything. He thought to himself…. this is where she flourished… this is where she was proud so that should be taken away from her…from the memory of her.
“She left and I am still here” he thought to himself…. So he cut that part away and that did no longer exist in his life…
The anger and the fear were still there…. But it was different…
Anger, Fear, Grief? (2001-01-18 07:53)
The Revenge
I started drinking a lot and even using drugs to ease of the pain. I honestly thought that would help me. I felt miserable but because I wasn’t able to make myself forget I believed that was just something I felt I deserved. At this time I didn’t consider suicide an option but when someone who gets to the stage I was in he doesn’t care and does things that can be lethal, like walking over a busy street without looking. I did a lot of stupid things. I was full of hate towards myself and to my mother…. I was back hurting myself again… I hated myself more than ever before… I thought I shouldn’t be able to escape the pain anymore or never to be able to feel the pleasure of playing the piano for people…for my mother…That night I made that which come through… just one cut…blood…pain…and everything went black… When I woke up I found that someone had come and fixed me up…I still don’t know who or what that was…The pain was still there but I wasn’t bleeding…
—
I hope people can forgive me….
After the fire in 1992 when my children and the mother lost their lives I lost a part of myself… both in that sense of the word, physically…. and emotionally… I had already started drinking heavily before the fire…. my marriage was in danger and my career as well… Constantly we were told by the mother that everything that went wrong was our fault… it was easy to believe that the fire was because of us… I couldn’t be a part of a family that I might be able to destroy this easily… Sunna and Amber would be better off without someone like me… so I left…
I wanted to forget… I couldn’t kill myself… yes I thought about it but the fear of giving someone else “the curse” kept the life in me… but in a way I was already dead… We couldn’t talk to anybody about this… we couldn’t talk to anybody about anything… but as long as we mutilated the body we would be ok…other people would be ok…
She told us from the start that we were evil…that we were born to this earth for one purpose and one purpose only and it was her duty to stop us.
She never got tired of telling us the story of her first born. “He couldn’t handle it” she said “He left this earth and gave you the gift”
She told us that we would manipulate people… that people would not be able to see that we were evil… but instead people would love us…and be drawn to us… both through music and through personality…
We made a plan… it was to change… we wouldn’t be “nice” anymore… and we were not to play the piano anymore… It was easier than we thought… Drinking and doing drugs made people not liking us anymore… we used every opportunity to make people run away…
This is a time in my life that is vivid… I don’t really want to know about the details… but it is also a time when we made an end to a career as a pianist… This, my career was also my mother’s number one priority, not to make me happy or even if this was something I wanted (which i did… sort off… I think) but because she loved the attention she got from it…
For every pianist the hands are most precious thing in one’s life… so as a part of “the plan” we needed to make sure to do damage to ours. …we followed the plan…. and that is why we don’t play for people anymore…
With damaged nerves.. causing decreased mobility and more on left hand we can’t ever be good again….
The Piano (Journal entry from 2002-06-24 14:58)
Happy birthday Mother
Dear Mother
Hey it’s me… your son… the one you were supposed to protect from harm and give love to… remember me? I remember you…
I remember when you tied me up and shoved food down my throat… sometimes it wasn’t even supposed to be eaten… or something so hot that my mouth and my throat would hurt for days… Sometimes my tummy would hurt so much I almost couldn’t move…
I remember when you woke me up in the middle of the night…. screaming at me… telling me I was lazy for sleeping… and you would push me down the stairs… I still have occasional pain in my right foot… and when I do I’m reminded of you… but I’ve learned to leave out the delusions you planted in my head… your delusions… They are not mine anymore… maybe they never really were… but instead just something that your special ability to convince people you were always right that made me believe you for so long… I just didn’t know any better…
Yes, I remember your words and for a long time… for way too long …when I left home for the first time I did what you told me to do… and for a long time after that…. I listened to you for way too long… and I didn’t go away even if I could… I came back… I believed you for way too long… or maybe I was just too afraid to find out if you were right or wrong…
I remember being angry at you for leaving me… you made me believe I had to take care of the “it”… When Karen left… you made sure I remembered it was my fault… and then…the way you left… it made me even more convinced…
Now… almost 23 years later… I know you weren’t well… you weren’t yourself… I also know I wasn’t really well either… I know all of “it” was your illness… blinding you… preventing you from being a mom…
I remember times where you and I had together… times where you didn’t feel a need to hurt me in anyway… I remember being able to sit on your lap or beside you and you would put your arms around me and tell me you cared about me… that you loved me… and even though some of those occasions there were people around… I know you meant it…
On your good days you did show me love… You told me you cared… I remember you telling me you didn’t want me to be taken away from you… that you never wanted me to leave because if I did you would die… and you cried and you told me you loved me… I believe… or at least I want to believe you had some kind of conscience… some kind of awareness of what you were doing… but fear kept you from doing anything about it… Maybe your own childhood just made you too ashamed of admitting your illness…
I remember you telling me at 17… When I left for school too don’t let anyone know about what’s going on inside my brain…. “They will lock you up” …you said… and you told me they would fill me up with medicine that would make me drool all over myself and make me feel like a zombie…
Well yes… I’ve been “locked up”… and a few times actually…. but they’ve let me out again…. every single time… and honestly… it isn’t as bad as you made it out to be… I don’t know if you ever had this experience or not… I don’t know if you were ever in a mental hospital… and maybe… this was probably the reality once…
But let me tell you something… you and I may have the same illness… not all the same symptoms or delusions though… but I would rather die than make my children go through what you put me through…
You told me once I wasn’t allowed to take my own life as it would only make ‘it’ more powerful… and within someone else who wasn’t as ‘lucky’ as I was… well I didn’t care about that when I upgraded your methods… silence and burn… in an attempt to stop my pain….
I’m not angry at you though… not really… not anymore… well… sometimes maybe… but when I am… it only makes my thoughts go places I don’t want to go… so I try not to…
I may not be the most perfect father in the world and maybe… and for a while didn’t realize I had this illness… but I did have someone in my life that helped me realize I needed help… someone who loved me with all my flaws and cared enough to do everything in her power to get help for me… To fight my brain in order to get my heart back…
I am sorry you didn’t have that….
I know my fight isn’t over… I know there will be more battles… but I can’t afford to let you hold me back anymore…
(Journal entry June 25th 2015)