How the fandom life kidnapped me

In today’s post I would like to talk about The Hunger Games and what it means to me. Now that the first part of Mockingjay is out and about in the cinemas I think it’s high time to talk about it. I love the books, I really do. The books changed my life. I mean it. When I first heard about the books I was like “Meh”. I don’t like hypes about books and movies much. Okay, now I’m hypocritical, I admit it. But the Twilight trauma was just too fresh in my mind. So I decided (!) that I wouldn’t read The Hunger Games. But then I was going to the cinema with a friend and there we saw the trailer of the upcoming movie. And the trailer was what got me interested. The movie looked like fun and action and basically so much better than Twilight. So I gave it a try. And what can I say? I was instantly hooked. First I bought the books in German because, well… I am German. I read them and I fell in love with them. Oh, I fell so hard. I opened my laptop (whose name, by the way, is Herman) and googled. And googled. And… you guess it, googled. I found this nice little forum for Hunger Games fans. First I just stalked a bit because I was unsure if I should register. But then I did.

And it was the true beginning of my fangirl life. It was like a whole new world had opened to me. I looked around for other communities I could join to not feel so alone anymore with my love for books. I was still in school back then and let me tell you; I was the odd-ball. Very few of my classmates had even read the Harry Potter books, let alone in the first week they were out. I always felt so lonely when someone talked about Harry Potter and I realized they didn’t talk about the latest book. Or not about the books at all. Can you imagine that they said “I’m not going to read them. I’ll just watch the movie.” Back then I didn’t even know about the magical kingdoms called ‘Fandom’ or I would have said Good riddance! to half-hearted conversations about books with my classmates much earlier! But with The Hunger Games I found my place among fellow fangirls. It was a relief. I felt like I finally truly belonged somewhere. Some of my best friends I met in that forum and they understand me better than anyone though we’ve never even met in person. To be fair, I met two of them in person and am about to meet two other sweethearts soon. But it doesn’t matter. We’re connected even though it “just” a digital connection. Wait, no. We’re communication digitally, but we’re connected by our shared love. For more than three years we had a place to go, not only to talk about the Hunger Games but also tell each other about problems and insecurities. Now, not that long ago the forum was put offline. It was a massive shock for us. I felt like my entire world was crumbling down. Worst thing was, my mom didn’t understand. She thought I overreacted. She said I could stay in contact with the others. Well, that’s true. But it wouldn’t be the same. For three years we had come to this place in the internet and we’d been a family. They were a part of me. We are family and with closing the forum it was like the destruction of the house we were born in. It hurt. It f-ing hurt! Fortunately we found another place for us. We are still together. And I think we now know better how much we mean to each other. It showed me how precious people you don’t even properly know (but let’s face it; I know my virtual friends better than my ‘real’ friends) can become to you. With The Hunger Games I found my place in this world. I’m living the life of a fangirl now. And I’m happy with it. Other people think me weird for obsessing about books and movies. They probably think me absolutely bat-shit crazy if I’m right with interpreting their faces. But that’s who I am. I’m weird. I’m awkward. I’m the girl who organizes the Hunger Games books in a bookstore if it is not done correctly. I’m the girl whose life was changed for the better by a simple movie trailer. I’m a fangirl and I’m proud of it. And The Hunger Games were the gateway for that.

"Is it nice not being me? It must be so relaxing!"

The name of this post is a quote from BBC’s Sherlock, just in case you don’t know. First things first, I don’t have the delusion that I’m a brilliant genius like Sherlock. I’m intelligent, yes, even more intelligent than most people I see on daily basis. But I’m not a badass detective with a mind palace.

But anyway, that wasn’t what I wanted to talk about. I chose this quote because it fits another aspect of me. My phobias. In my introduction I said I wanted to write about my phobias and explain them. Today I won’t go into detail about one of them but I want to explain what a panic attack is like. We all now a certain level of panic, for example when we realize that we should have done something by now and we haven’t even started. *cough*homework*cough* But let me tell you, that panic feeling you feel when you wake up at night and realize you haven’t done your homework and can’t afford another reprimanding from you teacher is nothing.

It’s nothing.

If you’re female, then you’re probably familiar with menstruation pain. That nagging pain in your stomach that makes you feel like you will have to puke every minute. If you’re male, then just imagine a stabbing feeling in your guts that won’t go away whatever you do. A panic attack is similar. There is a trigger, of course. It can be anything, really. For a claustrophobic person it will be confinement, for someone afraid of heights it will be climbing on a chair. But there are many phobias out there, and most of them are irrational, and each of them have their own triggers. But without the panic a phobia wouldn’t be a problem. So, the panic attack. How does it start? For me it starts with seeing or hearing the trigger. Then my body immediately goes into emergency mode. That means the nagging pain in my stomach settles in. From my stomach it creeps into my chest, constricting it and making it hard to really breathe. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hyperventilate. I can’t afford that because I don’t want anyone to notice that I have a panic attack and a phobia. It’s easier that way. Because people ask. And then they cannot understand it. And that doesn’t help. Really. It does not help. (The first thing you learn with a phobia is how to lie about it. But I think that will be another post.) So, breathing gets harder. My entire body grows cold although I’m sweating. I don’t sweat buckets, but it’s enough to make me feel even more uncomfortable. My limbs grow numb and it’s difficult to move my fingers. My legs feel like jelly. But at the same time my muscles tense till it’s so uncomfortable I either want to puke or to cry or to scream. Or everything at the same time. In contrast to my body growing cold my head grows warm. Really warm. My throat and my jaw feel like I have a fever while all the muscles in my face get rigid. And it hurts when every muscle there is gets rigid. And then there is my heart. It beats so fast and forceful that it beats against my rips. Blood is pumped through my entire body with force and speed. And on top of that you can’t think straight. Your brain is caught in an endless spiral of terror.

I get it that it’s difficult to understand a panic attack if you never had one. There was a time when I couldn’t understand either. I remember that I once read about a woman who had to wash her hands constantly and couldn’t stop. I didn’t get it. I thought it easy to just not wash hands. But now I understand it. Because I can’t stop, either. My mother is worried about my hands because I wash them that often and that thoroughly. I understand now the pressure of phobias and OCD. You are a slave of your mind. Your brain dictates you how to react to certain things. It’s illogical and irrational most of the time. And you know it. But you can’t help it. So… to get back at the title of this post. It is relaxing to not be me. I hope you understand that now a little bit better. I don’t want any pity for my… condition. It’s my problem. And it’s made in and by my own head. Entirely my own fault. But it would be nice if people understood that not everybody lives that easily. There are things I can’t just do because it would trigger a panic attack. Normal things other people do all the time. Pick up a piece of food if it fell from the plate onto the table and eat it. I can’t do that. Or better, I could do it. But then I would have to wash my entire mouth with strong alcohol. While simultaneously having a panic attack. So, be glad if you can pick up food and eat it. Be glad if you don’t know the terror your own mind can bring you. Live your life easily. I wish I could.

The effects of a Christmas Party

A Happy New Year to you all and a late Merry Christmas!

Today’s post is about my job again. But don’t worry, I’m not going to drown the blog in tears again. Because… it got better. Yes, really. And all because of the Christmas Party. I was there (it was more or less mandatory and I couldn’t afford not going) and I stayed almost till the end. Everybody who knows me just a little bit knows that I’m not one for parties. I just don’t like them. I don’t drink alcohol safe for a glass of sparkling wine or something. I don’t like dancing in a crowd. And I’m more or less completely exhausted once the clock reaches midnight and I need about a week to get alive again after a night like that. But I thought, alright, I’m going. Worst thing to happen is that I’m going to regret it and hide somewhere. I didn’t regret it (if you don’t count the silly games the newbies had to do. Did you know that popcorn is really sharp if you have to stuff your face into it to search for schnaps? I know it now. Luckily, when we couldn’t find any more bottles we were allowed to use our hands for the search. I REALLY hated getting my face somewhere where others had had their faces and hands before. I still have some half-healed cuts on my poor hands.

But well… it was for a good cause. I stayed till five in the morning and now I’m suddenly accepted. Just because I didn’t scarper the first opportunity. I want to point out that I didn’t change anything in how I work. I’m still doing everything like I did before. But suddenly it’s not wrong anymore. Suddenly I’m not the most stupidest, clumsiest oaf of all anymore. It’s fascinating, really. Why do I have to stay up late at a party that I didn’t like that much to be accepted? I mean, that’s not really mature, is it? You party with me and now I like you? Oh yes, that makes sense… But well, I’m not going to complain. It’s easier working without something breathing down your neck just waiting for you to make a mistake.

Oh, and on the even brighter side: We’re getting paid 1.50€ more from now on. Wage floor. Cheers!