new year, new bullshit

The time has come for everyone to write about the past year and their hopes and dreams for the next one. I’m not going to do that. You probably wouldn’t even expect me to. I used to give myself new year’s resolutions, back when I was naive. I know myself now, that’s the problem. I know that no matter how many lists I make, how many blog posts I write or how many bullet journal pages I dedicate to the resolutions I will never actually do them. That’s just how it is. It’s prehaps a little sad and upsetting and great many tears and frustrated wines have been given as were  a lots of swear words. That’s also the only thing, I realized, I could do about it, because nothing will ever change about me. I have no motivation and my will to do anything (including living) has left me some time ago  with no intentions of ever coming back. At least with no resolutions I will not feel guilty after not completing them and that is the only good thing I could hope for in 2018.

The new year’s resolution business is too definite for me anyway. To change something about yourself, your habits, to achieve your goals, to do all of that in a year?? That’s not only impossible, but actually really cruel. Most of people can’t change all their lives and just how many books, films and song a have been written about people who achieved nothing and their dreams never came true, but still something makes you think that you can  do it. You have to be really motivated and brave to do that, because you probably won’t and you will be disappointed and you will feel like shit, maybe you’ll even feel slightly depressed. Don’t do that to yourself. Come to the quitter side, we may not have cookies, but life is, oh so much easier here.


There are people, I heard of them, but never actually met one, who can achieve their goals. Apparently they’re called adults. Their natural habitat is diner parties. If you ever get invited to their tastefully decorated house,  don’t forget to bring a bottle of wine, which will remind them of  the wine they drunk on their trip to Italy they took a couple of years ago, but still can’t stop talking about it.


So, If you’re a responsible adult and have your shit together, I applaud you. Go and live your life and enjoy every second of it. And to us, the 20 somethings who haven’t quite grown up, I say this: go and get drunk. Not the most sophisticated advice you can get, but let’s be honest, what else can we really do to help us survive the bullshit that is life?

This post is a mess. Like all my posts, another thing I won’t change in 2018 (yay!). In a  conclusion of this mess – Please give your mental health a break and skip the resolutions, go see a Star War instead, or read a book or something.

Happy New Year to all!

the bathtub

Everytime my depression gets bad and I feel like I just can’t take anymore I go to the bathtub and cry. I just strip down and sit in it, but it’s not like in the movies when there’s a girl sitting in the water staring into the distance while a single tear falls down on her beautiful face. No, this is different.

I cry, my nose is running. The tears mixed with saliva are flowing to my neck as I struggle to breathe. I’m cold. I don’t know why it’s happening and there’s only one though circulating through my mind over and over again:  i’m going to die, i’m going to die, i’m going to die.

Right when I feel, that  only another pain could stop this I reach for the shower head and raise my hand to strike myself with it, my husband comes in. This is not the first time he sees me like this. He touches me and starts talking slowly. As he’s talking he helps me clean myself. Then he takes me out the bathtub and walks me to bed.

I feel better now. I needed to relieve some tension. I’m telling you because you shouldn’t feel ashamed for crying. Of you feel like it cry. If you can’t take it anymore, go to the bathtub, but you should have someone who pulls you out of it. Don’t be ashamed about your deppression. Tell someone and I promise it will help you.


I as a European have always watched the political events in the United States. It is one of the biggest countries in the world and arguably the most influential one. I never comment on it though. Because I am not an American I don’t live there and never have so I feel it is not for me to comment on the political situation there. But I have to talk about this.

For those of you who don’t know on August 12 a “Unite the Right” rally was planned  to protest against  the removal of a statue of Confederate icon General Robert E Lee in Charlottesville, Virginia. Speeding car, driven by one of the protestors, rammed into counter-demonstrators injuring more than 30 of people and killing one of them.

The protestors were waiving Nazi flags, shouting “blood and soil” and “white lives matter”. Let’s call them by their name, they are Nazis. No alt right, no sugar-coating. They are Nazis. The are horrible, disgusting people. They make me sick.

One of the things makes me sad is that most of the American public doesn’t really know about the horrors of WWII. Of course they know about it from history lessons and so on, but they never get to see it and hear about it on a regular daily basis. I live in the Czech Republic. Our country was occupied by the Germans from 1938 to 1945.

I was born 51 years after the war ended and I know the stories. My great grandparents lived through it. They were farmers, living in a small village nowhere important and even they were terrified of the Germans. They feared that one day they will come for them and send them to a concentration camp. My teacher used to tell me stories about his childhood, how they would hide in a basement when the Nazis were patrolling  the streets. I read the books by Arnošt Lustig and other great czech writers about their suffering in concentration camps. I had the pleasure to hear his sister Hana talk about her experience in Terezín and Auschwitz. If you speak czech or know someone who does please watch this video and listen to her talk about her horrifying experiences.

I visited Auschwitz couple of years ago as a school trip. It was horrifying. I will never forget how I felt when I was there. Standing in places where unspeakable horrors have happened and so many innocent people suffered and died is terrifying. I saw the clothes, the suitcases, the toys, the shoes, the hair of the people who died in gas chambers. But I don’t have to go that far to be reminded of those who lost their lives to hatred. There are two monuments of the WWII victims in a walking distance from my house. And not just here, it will probably be impossible to find a village or a town without a similar monument.

I promised myself that when I have kids I will talk to them about it, that I will educate them so they would never let history repeat itself.

But it is happening right now. It makes me angry that there are people who believe that other people should die based on the color of their skin or their religion.  James Alex Fields Jr is a terrorist. White supremacists are terrorists. Yet Trump is blaming both sides. He is saying the alt- left (whatever that might be in his head) is as evil as the white supremacist. I can’t wrap my head around it. By alt – left he probably means communists and yes socialistic regimes are also evil, but the USA has never got even close to socialism. Never. But that is a topic for another article. Basically the president defends the Nazis. I have nothing but disrespect and disquist for that man.

I am affraid, because I know the history. I’ve met people who survived concentration camps and those who lived in fear and saw the terrors of the Nazi regime. I am affraid the history is gonna repeat. But I know that now, more than ever is time to speak up against it. Speak against the white supremacy. Don’t dismiss it. Read a history book. Watch The Pianist or The Schindler’s List. Do something. Stand up for what is right.


the bubble

Me and my husband have been married for three months and I can honestly say it has been the best period of our relationship so far. I am happy and everything is great. The only thing that worries me is that I know the bubble is gonna burst. I just don’t know when.

Yesterday me and my friend hang at a coffee-house and talked about her relationship. She and her boyfriend have been together for a year. Yesterday he told he that he loves her, but he doesn’t want to settle down. So right now they live together as friends with benefits. It is hard for her to leave him, even though I think that’s what she should do. She loves him so much she is willing to stay with him even though he doesn’t want to share his future with her. They were happy and then the bubble burst. Is it gonna happen to us as well?

Of course, they weren’t married like we are. That made me examine the married couples I know. My parents are divorced. I have two aunts who are trapped in loveless marriages. My grandparents are divorced. Most of my friends parents are divorced or separated. I know only one or two married couples that seem to be happy.

Is our bubble gonna burst? Why can’t we just stay in this moment, perfectly happy and comfortable. I don’t want to look at my husband and not seeing the love. What if I wake up one day realizing I don’t love him anymore. I can’t bear that thought. I will protect the bubble at all costs.

the summer of 2012

Over the course of my life I have met many people, none of them however changed my life and helped me find myself as the three I met in the summer of 2012.

I just turned 16 couple of months before the faithful summer. Me and my brother and sister had a group of friends whom we knew our whole lives. Em my brother’s girlfriend at the time, inherited a house after her mother died when she was little and this was the first summer her grandparents allowed us to use it. It was a big, beautiful but a little beat-up house.The furniture inside was relic of the 90’s with only three rooms fully furnished. The central heating didn’t work, the water was cold and we could only use electricity occasionally because it was expensive.

We loved the house anyway, spending most of our time there. We would throw parties and invite everyone who’d bring booze. As I said I only had a small group of friends, but that summer I met many new people. Among them was Dee. She and I became friends, she was like a breath of fresh air. I could talk to her about everything. She was free, talking about sex, smoking cigarettes and drinking on weekdays. I have lost my virginity the year before we met to a guy who never called me back afterwards, but I have never talked about sex before. With newly found confidence I started smoking, drinking and brought Dee into the house.

Continue reading “the summer of 2012”


Turn around and watch the last spark of my sanity die under your knowing gaze

you’re free now, I’m gone

I joined my father at the madhouse

you never visit

teriffied of seeing my walking corpse

maybe you should have loved me more

i’m letting go, clear your conciense

i’ll be gone


© 2017 Carolyn Grimm