I’ve been learning about Finland and the Finnish language for so long that it was a kick to see a hit from Helsinki in my stats today. I mean, obviously if one person from Helsinki has read me, this means I am well on my way to being a household name. 😛 So, to the Finn who is making me famous, hei and kiitos.
I don’t know what it is about Finland that draws me except for the fact that it looks very much like Oregon, Washington, and Alaska with the added bonus of not belonging to a fascist regime. I would very much like to attend vocational school and see if it fits me the way Oregon did. The culinary program to which I want to apply is in Vaasa, but every flight from America goes through HEL first. Therefore, my first sight in Finland will be its capital.
I know that even if I don’t get into culinary school or decide not to go, my dream is to vacation in Helsinki, particularly to see the December 6th Independence Day celebrations. I would like to make some videos for YouTube of my impressions because that day has been important to me for over a decade. Basically, I celebrated someone’s birthday on that day for many years. She’s not my friend anymore, so there’s a hole in my heart where that holiday used to be. I looked up a new holiday to replace it on the Google machine, and now my heart bleeds sinivalkoinen (blue and white).
It seems ridiculous as I have no Finnish family, and yet it works. Trauma is replaced by joy, and I don’t get into why the former holiday is traumatic in order to make room for more happiness. Going to Helsinki for this celebration is the only thing on my bucket list, things to do before I die. Meanwhile, going to Vaasa for culinary school is lower on the list, but still important to me. I just cannot prepare for that right this moment, because I am locked in a lease here in Baltimore until November 30th. Any school to which I apply that’s not in Baltimore will have to wait until next year.
The reason I chose Vamia (aforementioned culinary school) is that their instruction is in English and the tuition is free. It would open up a brand new career path for me, because I am interested in starting a nonprofit called “The Sinners’ Table,” outreach to the least among us that offers fine dining to people who certainly couldn’t afford it on their own. Our tagline is “dinner with dignity,” and it will take about the length of culinary school to decide where home base should be. The program is approximately three years. During those three years, it’s my hope to create a team of people for Lanagan Media Group to do instructional videos on cooking for YouTube.
My former chef, John-Michael Kinkaid, had already started making these videos when he was killed in a car accident. Therefore, they exist, but I will never get to see them. All I can do is create videos on my own that remind me of him. The first will have to be “pan skills,” because my friend Mercy said, “I’ve always wondered how cooks flip the food in the pans without getting shit everywhere.” Mercy, here’s a pro tip…. you get shit everywhere until you learn how to flip food in the pans. In order to start, the easiest way is to learn to flip a piece of bread first. Then you can try an egg.
You want enough butter in the pan that the egg stays loose, but not enough to splash in your face…. ask me how I know this….
After a while, spoons are boring and you’ll just flip everything unless you’re using a rondeau or saucepan. My kitchen is such a disaster in terms of design that I would need to get back in practice. So I’ll be starting with a piece of bread as well. But it will be a piece of Finnish bread, God willing and the creek don’t rise….
The creek is certainly rising right now. I have health issues that need to be addressed before I see myself taking off for a foreign country. I have almost a year, so we’ll see what happens between now and then. What I do know is that I will be getting a new living space when my lease is up, and I want to pay special attention when I’m shopping around as to how the kitchen is built. My current arrangement leaves no work space, so most days I end up reheating leftovers in a toaster oven.
I know I would be happier with a larger kitchen and a smaller bedroom. I don’t even sleep in the master bedroom now. I have a two bedroom apartment and leave the master for guests, because I put my computer in the guest room. I didn’t realize how much I liked having my bed and desk together, so next time I will put my desk in the master to begin with. Everything is too heavy for me to move and I live alone. Plus, there’s something nice about it being small and cozy in here.
Overall, my experience at this apartment complex has been a shitshow, but I’m managing around its issues knowing that I’ll be out of here as quickly as I can. I want to move back to the DMV, Rockville, MD specifically. I belong to a group called “Cognitive Behavioral Health” in Baltimore that also has offices in Rockville and I’d like to be close. At the very least, moving anywhere in the DMV is easy access to Rockville via the Metro.
I realize this entry goes all over the place, and I thank all of you for sticking with me. I think that all blog entries are designed to be thoughts off the top of my head, but I’m still grateful that they provide some entertainment.
I am not entertaining myself. I’m devastated that my Finnish baby will not be coming with me to Helsinki, even for a visit. She said that I betrayed her and that is true. But she has no idea why or even wants to understand me. So I’m glad that the relationship is over. When I think back to her treatment of me for the last 12 years, what I see is an overwhelming amount of love and adoration coming from me and very little going to me. That isn’t why I betrayed her, but it is why I’m glad she’s gone.
I betrayed her because everyone was starting to look at me like I had this imaginary friend I made up. Her name might as well have been “George Glass.” No one understood why I was so messed up over it and why it’s ultimately better that she’s gone. I kick myself every day for continuing the relationship even though I knew it would be the end of me eventually.
She didn’t give a fuck what it cost me to be her friend.
She didn’t give a fuck how many times it hospitalized me (three and counting).
She didn’t give a fuck about my needs, that I was starting to crack a long time ago.
The only way out was to reach out, and the only way I do that is by writing.
She bolted, just like I knew she would. I didn’t care. I was experiencing too many mental health issues that were above her pay grade, and she made it where I couldn’t talk to anyone about them, even keeping it in the family.
I am still angry, still grieving, still trying to move the fuck on and stop thinking about her because that’s what she wants. It’s not what I want. I know part of her was really excited to actually see me learning Finnish. But I won’t see her in Helsinki. That dream is dead just like many others. She chewed me up and spit me out because I had the audacity to spiral out in depression and anxiety due to sitting on everything she told me, then stonewall me into oblivion when I tried to go to her directly.
She doesn’t talk about her feelings, and she doesn’t want to talk about mine. It left me empty on some days and crying my eyes out on others. But those nights won’t mean anything to her.
Because I should have stayed shut down and miserable. I should have counted on her to open up after years and years of pleading.
I don’t know why I couldn’t let go on my own. I needed this push. Otherwise, I would still be buried in a pile of e-mail, no closer to a real relationship with a close friend than I was 12 years ago.
That part is all my fault. I never should have told her I had actual feelings for her, the kind that never go away and there’s jack shit I can do about it until my heart decides she’s just not that interesting. My heart will never decide that. I have to decide how I’m going to handle things going forward. I know within myself that if it took 12 years for her to implant herself, it’ll take half that to get her back out. Luckily, I can see a therapist to work out why I’m such a mess.
I just want her to go away, because it’s not reality to put love into this relationship anymore. They’re just intrusive thoughts on a trauma bond that flips out when I think of her. Trauma bonds aren’t healthy, but that’s what we created. Then, we spent 12 years unleashing our most toxic versions of ourselves on each other. Every single time I wrote her long e-mails trying to explore these things, she’d spit venom in my direction.
She didn’t want me to get close to her, and over time, it worked. I realized that I didn’t want someone who always fought against me instead of working with me. I found out she lied and hit the ceiling, thinking that because she’d lied about one thing, she’d lied about everything.
I realize now that I don’t know and I don’t care what’s true and what’s not. She’s already taken as much of me as she deserves, and I’m finally angry enough to see it. She can rant all day long about my behavior over the last few months, but I’m ranting about the last 12 years. Just avoidant and tight-lipped while I was screaming for empathy and nothing. She helped ruin a marriage over it, and not her own. Because the thing is, my marriage never would have worked after I met her even if I hadn’t felt those teenage, blushing feelings. I don’t wall off my emotions and pretend they don’t exist. I don’t keep secrets from my partners and expect that they know not to ask about my friends.
I want new friends with secure connections and I have them. Unfortunately, they don’t live in the area. So, I’m trying to get out and make them.
I hope that Aada reads this and sees that we’ve always been toxic, that she participated in the toxicity, and likes to pretend that everything is all my fault. It’s easier that way, I’m sure. But I’m done talking to a brick wall and even more done trying to knock it down.
It will be a cold day in HEL before I welcome her home, a double entendre because perhaps one day she’ll realize that she was in the wrong, too, and I’ll get the healthy relationship I wanted all along. I just severely doubt it because she doesn’t like emotions or messiness. She doesn’t like mental illness. She doesn’t like anything that disturbs her peace while she disturbs everyone else’s. She’s been the most selfish friend I’ve ever had in my life, because when she needed me, I was there. When I needed her, she was nowhere to be found. She said a lot of things that made me think she would be there for me someday.
Someday never came, which is why I’m happy with just getting a hit from Helsinki and leaving my Finnish baby where I found her.
Stories That Are All True 