About this time last year, I got an old rocking horse in wood from the 50's. It was right after the 3rd attempt in Denmark. When asked if I wanted it, I thought it might be a nice renovation project in anticipation of a positive pregnancy test. There is something nice about renovating and giving new life to old things. When I got sick, there was  too much painful symbolism in the rocking horse. So  for a long time it was left hidden, but not forgotten in the basement. As I got better, it got to come out again and what stated as a fun project has become increasingly charged with meaning. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a goal was formed to get it done before the november check up. As a sign that it's ready for what's to come.

It looked quite messy and worn out when it arrived. Ironically and without knowing it at the time, the rocking horse and I were actually in a bit of the same condition when I got it. Tired expression with peeling paint and brittle hair. In a similar way, we have also undergone an overhaul throughout the year. Layer after layer of paint is scraped away, with chisels and chemicals. With sandpaper, the innermost layer finally appeared. It revealed some wounded, but mostly solid wood. Nothing that couldn't be fixed. The wounds were covered and strengthened with putty. After a coat of primer, it immediately looked brighter during the summer. As the leaves began to fall, new layers of paint were added to hide putty and wounds. November evenings have given time to the last little details and it looks fresher and healthier than in a long time. The brittle, dirty mane has been replaced with fresh, well-groomed hemp and it starting to look more like its old self again. It will never be exactly the same again, but it has become all the richer in history. Time, energy and part of my story are now embedded in this rocking horse that was ready for the dumpster. Now it 's back at the starting line, ready to start a new and exciting chapter. Just like me. Today I had my check up at the rheumatalogist and I have been given the green light. I am healthy and stable enough to try to get pregnant !!

​Just like Halloween, Father's Day is a custom imported from the United States, where the first Father's Day was celebrated on June 19, 1909. In the Nordic countries, Sweden was the first to appear in June 1931. After both Sweden and Denmark experienced good sales figures in connection with Father's Day It was the tobacco trade in Norway that first proposed the introduction of Father's Day. The fact that Father's Day was added to the second Sunday in November was simply to provide more turnover until the Christmas shopping got off to a good start. Even though the day was introduced to trigger trade, it is a good idea to honor or remember fathers and the work they do. I myself am so lucky that I have two fathers, a dad and a stepfather. That is why there are also two boxes of chocolates in the hallway today. After a phone call to dad, it turned out that he is in Spain, so one of the boxes must be hidden away for so long. The other ended up in the bike basket and had a little Sunday ride.

Of course, Father's Day also touches on the sore side of my solo mom project. The fact that there will be no dad present when my baby is born. The experience and consequences of growing up without a father are what critics worry about most when they oppose assisted reproduction for single women. Most people probably agree that growing up with a good dad is better than growing up without. But I do not think one is doomed to a bad life without a biological father present. When assisted reproduction for singles is discussed, there is often a lot of focus on the biological danger, that one does not know who the biological danger is. But being and being a father is, after all, much more than just biology. It is a continuous choice to line up and be present. I think a study of gay men as parents is a touching example that being a parent is ultimately also a choice, which does something to us biologically. When a woman becomes a mother, there is a change in the amygdala that makes her respond to the baby's needs. Father's amygdala takes over when mother is not present. In gay couples where there is no mother, the amygdala works in the same way as with the mother all the time. So our own human nature is in some cases more adaptable than the individual assumes.

But biology is also a part of it, and unlike in Norway, you can choose a donor yourself at the clinics in Denmark. There is something absurd and a little sad about rationally considering search criteria that are usually made by the urinary instinct. What I emphasized when I read through the donor cards were indicators of good physical and mental health, as well as hair / eye colors that are similar to my own. After filtering down to 5 current ones, I let friends read through and provide input. It was a bit of a weird feeling to finally put a straw, as it is called, with donor semen in the shopping cart and take out the credit card. As if I bought a pair of shoes. But I can guarantee you that there were no thoughts of creating a designer baby that went through my head when I finally sat there with the first order confirmation that semen was on its way to the clinic. It was a combination of hopeful expectation and a declaration of bankruptcy that the family dream ended here.

Exactly this around Father's Day and similar situations that can create questions and a feeling that something is missing, one tries to form some thoughts around. I think the most important thing is not to problematize it too much or make it something bigger than it is. Avoid transmitting adult thoughts to the child. If you are constantly told "poor you who do not have a dad" then you will eventually think so too. Father's Day is just one day of 365 days a year and there are many reasons why children grow up without their biological father. If cards are to be made for Father's Day in the kindergarten, you can suggest making cards for grandfather or uncle, for example. I also do not think we will not be alone for the rest of our lives. At some point, someone will appear who wants to be part of our little family. It is not a matter of course, but I choose to believe that it will happen. From experience, I know that a stepfather can also be a very good and important father figure.

​November has been lukewarm so far, with the exception of a few mornings with frozen windows. November is generally a slightly lukewarm month. Caught between bold, cheeky October and flashy, carnal-scented December lies this gray, elusive month. Yesterday I found an old letter again. A letter written to an old lover, it's everything else a lukewarm. The letter brought me back to the memory of the relationship that never became anything more than a hope of love. It is a little uncomfortable to be reminded of the emotional register, it is still easily accessible under the skin. The deep-seated devotion that is replaced with desperation and bottomless grief when rejection is a fact. The humiliation of realizing that one was just a bloodless wait, a bit like November. The pathetic attempts to cling. Cling to an illusion of something that never was. Why do we do that? Do we cling to the people who confirm what we fear most? That we are not good enough as we are, that we are missing something? Why is it so easy to dedicate so much of your energy and warmth to someone who is lukewarm, cold or indifferent? What are you trying to prove? If I just give a little more of myself, try to be a little better, a little nicer, a little kinder, then they will eventually think I'm good enough. The whole thing is pretty sad to remember afterwards. I have written several such letters. Some I sent, most not, others I burned. For every strong emotion, a new lesson. Or maybe it's really the same lesson again, just with a new face. A lesson that you deserve better. One deserves more than half-hearted and lukewarm. Hopefully I will learn soon.

It is in relation to others that we experience and find ourselves. We are affected by those we surround ourselves with and they almost imperceptibly color us, leaving marks and scars on the skin. That may well be why we feel uncomfortable when we have to let go. Because as we let go, a small piece of us that they took with them disappears. Some marks and the people who left them fade and maybe even disappear a little when the old skin is released and replaced with a new one. Marks and scars you never thought would heal are suddenly completely gone. Others, on the other hand, have affected you more deeply than you were aware of and will never completely disappear. Someone has turned you in a new direction, aroused a new interest or trait. A trait you discovered in yourself. A property you took to yourself and made your own. It is a great experience to have in mind when life throws you further in a new direction, towards a new lesson. Because you know it will bring you something new, something you do not know about yourself yet.

Big thoughts to keep in mind on a normal Friday. Or not quite an ordinary Friday, it's payday and today I'll actually be taking a paycheck. With this mode, the steering wheel solves some world problems as well. Good weekend!

The Halloween party i still lingering in my body and my gut is less than happy with the (slightly too many) glasses of bubbles I indulged in. A somewhat nicer Halloween leftover are sitting on the kitchen counter. One of the cute little pumpkins  I have grown, is cut into pieces and is going to be tasty soup. Cooking from scratch is a bigger part of everyday life now than it used to be. Because the increased focus on ultra-processed food, has caught my attention. Several studies link ultra-processed foods to adverse health consequences. Studies show that more additives can increase inflammation and change in the intestinal flora of mice. If there is one thing I'm trying to take good care of these days, it's my gut bacteria.

Food processing is divided into 4 categories, which is called NOVA classification:

1 - unprocessed food or minimally processed food
This is food that is unchanged or treated minimally from the time it was collected, simply raw ingredients such as fish, meat, fruits, vegetables, grains, eggs and milk. Minimal processing may be that it has been cleaned, heat-treated, dried or frozen, but no other ingredients have been added.

2 Processed culinary ingredients
These are foods that are made from ingredients from group 1 that have been further processed or refined. For example, sugar, honey, olive oil, butter and flour.

3. Processed food
These are foods from group 1 that have been treated or added to products from group 2. The food is processed to increase shelf life, for example by cooking, frying fermentation or added simpler additives such as preservatives. Examples of this type of food are cheese, cured meats, pickles and canned fruits and vegetables.

4. Ultra-processed food
What characterizes the ultra-processed food is that it contains a number of ingredients that are not found in an ordinary kitchen, and that affect the taste, aroma, consistency. It's these ingredients that can be problematic, especially bulking agents and emulsifiers. Some of the ingredients are added to replace the amount of raw ingredients needed, while some are actually added to cover the fact that the other additives tastes horrific.

What is perhaps most frightening to hear is that in the worst cases, the product has been engineered to create a form of addiction. Meaning, when you sit down on the 3rd bowl of ice cream and feel like a pig without self-control (speaking from personal experience), it's not just necessarily about lack of self-discipline. The ingredient list is actually designed deliberately so that your "stop" button stops working, and you end up eating and buying more of the product. And the thought that some companies deliberately is trying to create food addicts provokes me.

So what should one do when something that is so fundamentally important to us as food, has become a topic that it's so easy to get lost in? When so many stakeholders want to pull or influence you in one direction or another. Whether it is morality, idealism, environment, health or perhaps most often, a desire for profit. To  steer myself in a slightly better direction when I'm at the store, I have started trying to follow a good advice I heard. To mainly choose foods that contain ingredients I could have found at home in the kitchen. It's something that is easy to relate to and understand. If I try to stick to this most of the time, then I think there is still room for that bucket of ice occasionally as well ..

Tips for podcast on the topic:
"A thorough examination"

Source:
https://forskning.no/mat-og-helse/to-nye-studier-kobler-ultraprosessert-mat-til-sykdom-og-dod/1342733
https://forskning.no/ny-mat-og-helse-kreft/forskere-kobler-ultra-prosessert-mat-til-kreft/285974
https://forskning.no/mat-og-helse-ny-overvekt/blir-vi-fete-og-syke-av-ultraprosessert-mat/270390
https://oslonyehoyskole.no/forskning/arets-beste-artikkel-i-nutrients-mekanismer-hvordan-ultraprosessert-mat-skaper
​https://www.aftenposten.no/kultur/i/86npkQ/hva-er-egentlig-problemet-med-industrimaten
​

I've always loved dressing up in costumes. When you put on a costume, it feels like you get acess to another part of your personality for a little while. Sometimes it can feel liberating to hide behind a costume. Allow a hidden side of yourself to come out. When you think about it, to some extent we put on costumes every day. We choose outfits and a part of our personality that's appropriate for the occasion. This weekend, the dark, gruesome and grotesque costumes are coming out. An innocent flirtation with the darker side that lives within all of us.

This year I feel like I have flirted with many new aspects of my own personality. Suddenly I'm standing here in October realizing that I am not quite the same person anymore, something has changed. A bit like the werewolf maybe? Both the butterfly and the wolf's connection to lupus is about the rash over the bridge of the nose and cheeks, but they are also good symbols for some of the involuntary changes you go through. The butterfly is a slightly prettier symbol of transformation. The werewolf, on the other hand, is perfect as a Halloween costume, because one thing that never changes, is the joy of dressing up for Halloween! So this year it had to be werewolf costume.

Lupus can feel a bit like a werewolf curse. Last Christmas, I felt  the physical ravaging particularly well throughout my body. The wolf was not kind and almost forced me into prayer in front of the pillbox in the morning. Being made aware of your own mortality in that way, does something to you. Feeling the fear that the pain would never end, but become permanent. It was a light bulb moment realizing how much self-confidence and self-worth one  had put into work, hobbies and things one could usually do without a problem. If these things suddenly disappear, the fall will feel all the greater if one doesn't have a secure core of self-worth. To feel that you have a value even if you can't work for example. Fortunately for me, this painful period was short and I have so far been spared a recurrence of the pain. But the awe of how vulnerable life and the body are, is still there and has changed me. Hopefully to a better and more humble edition. A nice side effect that has accompanied the disease is a greater understanding and tolerance for all the things you can not tell from outside of another human being.

​Getting a chronic diagnosis is a bit like being uprooted to be replanted. Meaning you would rather be planted back in a more nutritious place, so the flower doesn't wither. The fact that the disease is triggered and triggered by something in the environment has brought with it a domino effect of thoughts about my life, how we live our lives, and how society wants us to live. The food we eat, how we treat the nature around us, what qualities and values ​​we prioritize and value. One is forced a little to turn off habits, thoughts and actions that have been automated. Reassess and see if there is anything you should clean up, remove, or rethink. To those around you, it may seem that you have become strange and different. In reality, it's more about figuring out how to live your best life with an unstable trigger mechanism within the body.

Where the wolf represents the pain, the hurt and the brutal lupus can do to your body and mind, perhaps the butterfly illustrates the slightly finer, inner change. Because you are forced to look inwards. Find the strengths and qualities you can use to cope with the new life. Be concious of the mental nourishment and information one chooses. It's not necessarily done in a jiffy, you may have to go through several stages. But once you get through the first stage, the next will be easier. I tell myself when I'm in need of a pep talk "You landed on your feet after 2020, you can handle this".

It's said that if a butterfly struggles to get out of the cocoon, you shouldn't try to help it, because then it will die. It's the wear and tear of the cocoon that gives the wings enough muscle power to fly. It's a nice illustration that "wgat doesn't kill you, makes you stronger", but when you have lupus you quickly discover  that it's not necessarily just a matter of giving a little extra, pushing a little harder or being better to escapethe cocoon. Sometimes time, calm and patience are the only remedy. It can be frustrating, but in return the view feels all the more beautiful the times you do get to fly.

​There is something mysterious and magical about the moon. It runs in a cycle of 29 days and 12 hours. A cycle of forces. Just like an average menstrual cycle. The forces of the moon affect the tide, and some believe it affects us as well. Maybe not so strange, since we're made up of mostly water. And as the moon affects the water, the menstrual cycle affects us. If there is something you suddenly become focused on when you're trying to get pregnant, it is your cycle. You also get a newfound respect for how complicated and wonderful nature has put us together to be able to conceive a child. I don't really remember that we had that much sex-ed. Except for a short session of giggles in a science class, in middle school. Which is kind of sad, when I only now as a full grown adult understand how much we are affected both physically and mentally by each phase of the cycle and how intricate it really is.

Menstruation (days 1 to 5)
The first day of the period marks the end of the previous cycle and the beginning of the next. The body gets rid of the layer of uterine lining that is supposed to catch the fertilized egg. The fact that you are bleeding and maybe a little tired with cramps and aches, makes it natural to take it easy. To take a little extra care of yourself the first few days. The level of estrogen and progesterone is low when the period starts. This is one of the reasons why you can feel a little emotional, down and grumpy the days just before and the first days of the period. Estrogen is linked to the production of serotonin, the "happiness hormone".

The follicle phase (days 6 to 12).
The follicular phase actually starts at the same time as the period. A follicle is a small bladder with a small egg. When the period comes, 3-5 follicles start to grow, of which 1 will eventually be the egg that is released. It's the hormone FSH that signals to the follicles to start growing. This is one of the hormones that is measured when starting fertility treatment and says something about the quality of the eggs. During day 5, a follicle has taken the lead and becomes the egg to be further developed. The rest disappear, ie you lose more than one egg during a cycle. In this phase, the estrogen level rises, and with it the mood and physical capacity also rise. This is the period when the body is at its peak physically, mentally and socially. Personally, I notice, for example, that during this period I am mentally tougher in the climbing gym. Taking chances comes naturally, and I feel stronger both physically and mentally. The energy level is generally higher and I have more stamina during this period. Receiving bad news, for example, is much easier to deal with.

Ovulation (days 12 to 16) It's show time! The increasing estrogen is soon at its peak and eventually causes a significant increase in the LH hormone (luteinizing hormone). It's this sudden increase that is gives a positive ovulation test. For us without a partner, this is the time we get on the phone with the Fertility Clinic. The selected egg will now  embark on its fated journey down the fallopian tube and hopefully meet up with a handsome swimmer on the way. When the egg is released, it has about 24 hours to be fertilized. The days around ovulation are the days when the woman is at her peak. It's said that you likely tolerate more pain and is at your most social and attractive. After all, the body is trying to make a baby, but if you're not trying for a baby, you can use these latent powers for something else. During these days, it feels a bit like surfing on a wave of green lights and absolutely nothing can go wrong.

Luteal phase (days 17 to 28)
When the egg is released, the follicle is released into something called the corpus luteum, which produces the hormone progesterone. This leads to a sharp increase in this hormone, which together with estrogen prepares the body to receive a fertilized egg. The lining of the uterus thickens again and the temperature in the body rises. The body gets into incubation mode and creates a thriving environment for the egg. Progesterone is a hormone that is often used after an IUI (Intrauterine insemination) to increase the chance that the egg will attach to the lining. As I have understood from my rheumatologist, it's not common that this hormone triggers lupus. Eight to nine days after ovulation, hormone production begins to decline. The falling hormone levels are linked to the mood swings associated with PMS. For my part, this is when I tend to ponder and become philosophical, while overthinking everything, with a side of melancholy. When there is no fertilized egg, the corpus luteum will eventually be destroyed. With this abrupt stop of hormones, aunty flow makes an apperance, and a new cycle begins.

My experience is that knowing your own cycle and knowing how it feels and behaves in your own body is useful knowledge. Both to recognize the abnormal and to be able to give yourself some slack in certain periods. It doesn't have to mean you have to limit yourself based on the different phases, but it's an opportunity to utilize the potential that lies within the cycle. At the same time, it's also a comfort to know  when it suddenly feels like the world is falling apart, or when you are moved to tears while matching single socks with each other, it could be a natural and hormonal explanation.

​Sources:
https://sml.snl.no/menstruasjon
https://www.vilbligravid.no/fertilitet/kvinnens-fertilitetsutredning/
https://www.everydayhealth.com/womens-health/how-your-menstrual-cycle-affects-your-behavior.aspx

​It's Thursday morning at Gardemoen. A steady stream of people flows through the security checkpoint. With a flustered expression, I try to sort the suitcase, PC, liquid, jacket and shoes on the moving belt. "The beanie" the guard nods towards the belt. Ah, yes, I had forgotten it. Throw it on top the jacket. Ready. "You got liquid in the bag?" No ... ah shit, I forgot to empty the water bottle. I move through the metaldetector - piiip, random check. The guard gives me a smile and sweeps for traces of drugs on my hands and waistband. Then it's time to gather everything back together quickly and swiftly, without taking up space or being a nuisance to the next person in line. Is there one place you need to know what you're doing, it's at the airport. It's a small universe of social codes and norms. Countless chronicles have been written by smart, well-traveled and annoyed people about proper airport etiquette. An important point on the list is not spend too much time in the security check. Ideally, you should be through so quickly that no one even noticed you were there. As I finally get through to the other side, I fell sweat trickling dawn my back and a little flustered.

The last time I was at Gardemoen, both me and the airport were a lot calmer. I was on my way to Copenhagen and the Stork clinic. The tension in my chest was linked to something completely different than it is today. Today I am on a work related trip and have put on my work persona. With a slightly nicer jacket and boots, I try to cover up the slightly insecure girl who doesn't feel in control today. Serious faces swirl around me. They look so professional, as if they have everything taken care of. Maybe they're actually a little stressed inside too? It has somehow been part of my job identity to be conscientious and efficient. Now this job persona has started to crack at the edges. Where I used to have a large work capacity, I now get stressed more easily. These days it doesn't take much before things starts to feel fussy and tiring.

After buying an overly expensive coffee with pumpkin spice and filling tmy water bottle with lukewarm water from the restroom, I'm at the gate. I've been feeling well for a long time, so I'm not really worried that I'll suddenly get very sick trip. But I'm still a little anxious about how my energy level will hold up. In these kind of work contexts, there is less room for mental rest compared to a normal working day. Representing the workplace externally requires being a little more "powered up". The fact that everyone will give a small presentation is also stressing me a little. Even though I have met most of the participants before. It's strange that a few minutes of presentation steals so much mental energy and thought activity. I take a deep breath and lower my shoulders. Take a sip of the spicy coffee and remind myself of what I have tackled this year. So what if the powerpoint slides and the presentation isn't perfect, it really isn't the end of the world.

​After filling up my pill box for the week, it became clear that it was time to stop by the pharmacy to stock up on Imurel and prednisolone. Since the grocery store has an offer on my fave coffee this week, I made sure to beat two birds with one stone. After grabbing grabbing a couple of bags and heading towards the check-out, I bump into a familiar face from high school. In his trolley a cute kid and he tells that number 3 is on its way. We chat a little loosely of this and that. He's aged well. Only a few wrinkles around his eyes reveal that he is in the middle of raising small kids. There is something nice about coming from a small town where you can suddenly stumble upon old acquaintances in this way.

Rewind back to March and I would have done anything to avoid suddenly bumping into old familiar faces. Especially handsome guys from high school. It would've sent me straight into the comparison trap and a trip down to the dark side. The voice in my head would've pressed all the painful buttons and intensified the feeling of loss, sadness and loneliness. The question "how are you?" would lead to blank lies and flickering eyes. Most likely I would have tried to avoid it all together and tried to make myself invisible. Maybe stuck my head down the freezer  and examined the table of contents on a packet of salmon. Today I'm trying to be invisible. When I answer that all is goodl, I can feel physically in my body that I actually mean it. My  smile is real and my voice is steady. That I'm gesturing with a pharmacy bag in my hand, I only register afterwards. There is a completely different calmness in my body now, compared to March. It no longer feels like I'm trying to fight the situation, but have accepted it as it is right now.

Coffee, the black morning gold! The smell of freshly ground beans or freshly brewed coffee is just fantastic. Whether it comes in a thermos, a cup or in a glass of steamed milk, coffee is definitely an important part of the morning ritual. Enjoying a cup of coffee while staring blankly out the window, or deep into a crackling fire is just lovely. But more often it's consumed while choking a yawn and rubbing your eyes by the coffee machine at work. When I tried to get pregnant last year, I cut out coffee, and the morning was not quite the same with decaffeinated alternatives. Not mye head either for that matter, the caffeine abstinence felt quite loud until I got used to it. When the pregnancy plans were put on hold, it did not take long before I was back on the coffee and I easily drink 3-4 cups before lunch. After lunch, my inner coffeewench is usually satisfied. But if it's a special occasion she can handle a cup or two in the afternoon. 

One might think that coffee and caffeine were something to avoid when you have lupus, but a study indicates that coffee can actually have a positive effect on lupus. It may not be based on as many patients (89), but patients with low caffeine intake had more frequent manifestations and were more often treated with cortisone. Those with high caffeine intake also had lower levels of cytokines. Cytokines are involved in the regulation of the inflammatory response. There are several types of cytokines, some of which are associated with increased disease activity in lupus. Those who had high coffee intake had lower levels of these cytokines. Now, I don't have access to the study itself, only the abstract and the conclusion, so I did not see what was defined as high and low intake. Something similar has been seen when it comes to cardiovascular disease. Compared with those who drank 0 cups a day, those who drank 3.5 cups daily had a 15% lower risk of cardiovascular events. Those who drank 5 cups had 5% less risk. So I really see no reason to cut that delicious, black, morning gold just yet.

Kilder:
https://www.lhl.no/sunnere-liv/ernaring-mat-og-helse/kaffe-hjertehelse-og-kolesterol/
​www.lupus.org/news/first-study-to-assess-the-impact-of-caffeine-on-lupus-disease-activity-steroid-use-and-other
journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0961203320941920?journalCode=lupa
arthritis-research.biomedcentral.com/articles/10.1186/ar3349
https://www.emjreviews.com/rheumatology/article/cytokines-and-inflammatory-mediators-in-systemic-lupus-erythematosus/

Putting thoughts and feelings into writing has been form of therapy. Trying to see it all from the outside, as if it were a scene from someone else's life. By describing the environment or the feeling from the narrator's perspective, I somehow get to see and process it from a different angle. Emotions or thoughts that I am ashamed flows more freely and become a little less scary this way. In the weeks following the diagnosis, there were many such small stories and scenes that came to life for a little while. Sometimes in the form of poems. Some are deleted, some are allowed to live on, on the harddrive. Whether they exist anymore or not is not important. The most important were the cathartic moments where the words flowed freely and uninhibited.

Putting your thoughts into words by writing them down or saying them out loud makes it easier to see them objectively. Negative thought spirals are easier to detect and stop when you see the words written down or hear yourself say them out loud. The inner critic gets a little less power when the words are forced into the light, rather than buzzing unchallenged in the background. Sometimes I end up having to laugh out loud when I see / hear how silly they are. Other times I can't read through afterwards. Then I just press delete or burn the sheet afterwards. But just getting it out of your head makes it easier, reduces the pressure. Writing as therapy works in several of life's more difficult aspects, such as chronic pain, divorce or treatment of substance abuse.

I usually write digitally. It's easy to erase, reformulate or delete. Plus it's a lotfaster. In a way, there is an opportunity for retreat in a digital document. But at my bedside table lies a lined book, bound in blue imitation leather. An orange rubberband protects it. As a nice contrast against the blue. The idea was to use it as a gratitude journal or for personal scribbling, but I find it difficult to break the first page. Writing by hand on paper gives a special feeling, more personal in a way. Handwritten letters and cards are rarely sent these days, but oh so nice to receive. Words on paper capture emotions in a different way. Think how much more dramatic it is to burn a letter than to delete an email. For this reason, it feels like there should be written something important or nice on the first page of a blank, unwritten book. The first page of the blue book has been blank for a long time, but today I break it with a poem I wrote 10 days after I became ill. And at last the first blank page is finally broken.


Source:
www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/psychiatry-history/202011/how-expressive-writing-works
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/write-yourself-well/201208/expressive-writing
https://psykologtidsskriftet.no/fra-praksis/2017/09/skrive-livet
https://axialspondyloarthritis.net/living/journaling
www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/05/170508162304.htm