Who am I?

I am Alice. First I have to say that it is not the name given to me by my parents. That would be Vanessa. Don’t get me wrong, I like my name. It’s a pretty name and it has the right number of vocals in it to appeal to people. But still I’m listening when someone calls me Alice. Often I feel like the girl who fell down a rabbit hole. Confused, scared but at the same time excited. I’m scared of the world and the people in it. I’m clearly soziophobic and a psychiatrist told me I suffer from depression. I would call it Weltschmerz, though. I googled the term for the best translation into English, actually, and I found sentimental pessimism and world-weariness. Both words describe it quite well but do not tell the entire truth.

Anyway, back to my introduction. I am twenty-three years old but most of the time I feel either much younger or much older. Sometimes both at the same time. I always have been an old soul, I suppose.  I skipped the teenage-girl phase in my life and went on to being adult. But at the same time I cherish each moment I can spent with childish activities like roasting marshmallows over a candle or singing children’s songs. Sometimes I feel wary of the world and what it has become. I don’t like all that new nonsense I see. For example: The daughter of my neighbours is in primary school, and she learned the letters with corresponding gestures of her hands. I find that weird. Really weird. Pedagogues say that it makes it easier for the kids to remember them. I say it looks bat-shit crazy. It’s not even that they use sign language. I would be all for that. Learning two things at the same time. But no. It’s just random make-belief movements of the hand. When I started school I learned the letters without that nonsense. Such novelties are just unnecessary in my opinion. I’m like an old, cranky woman when it comes to that. In my time we didn’t need that.

My favourite place is my armchair. Again that’s an old-woman-thing, I think. It’s an old, brown, time-worn armchair and I couldn’t wish for a better hiding place in the entire world. It has three cushions on it; one bought in a shop, one sewn by Yours Truly and one sewn by my mother when I was a little kid. It also is the resting place for my laptop and I’m always stuffing books, DVDs and CDs around me when I’m sitting in it. Sitting in my armchair I can escape the world; or more, exploring so many more worlds. I love reading books. Books are my home and my refuge. When I’m sick of my life (what happens quite often) then I escape to a fictional world to go on adventures with my favourite fictional characters. Books are like the air I breathe. I couldn’t live without books and stories, and I’m not feeling at home if there isn’t at least one book around me. So book stores are my natural habitat. I really cherish the time when I can just go into a book store and be there for an eternity. Whether this eternity is about an hour or about three hours I don’t mind. My main focus is that I can pick up books, read the summary and maybe even a few pages. That’s a very welcome break from the real world. Another escape option for me is the internet. Clearly. I love the friends I found on fanfiction sites and forums to bits and pieces. They are just as weird and odd as I am. And I mean it in the best way possible. I feel understood and welcomed into the community of socially inept and awkward people.
They are my second family. And I love them. I wouldn’t know what to do without them. Nadja, Tami, Hannah and so many more. They are addicted to books just like me. They understand my weirdness. They don’t judge me because I’m a lost puppy when it comes to social interaction. So, yes. Books and the internet. My refuges.

So, with all that said; what will I write about in this blog? I think mainly books, movies and shows I like. Then I want to tell you about several phobias I have. I understand that it’s difficult to wrap your mind around how people can be scared about seemingly unimportant little things but I want to help anybody who wants to know how it is to be terrified of things other people even don’t notice at all. And I will probably write about some random things, too, that come to my mind. There are always random things on my mind.