☂ ☔ ✈ ☼ ☁ ⚡ ❅★ ☆ ☽ ☏ ✉ ☑ ☒✔ ✘ ☕ ♿ ✌ ☯⚠♀ ♂ ⚲ ⚢ ⚣ ⚤ ⚥♛ ♕ ♚ ♔♡ ♥ ♫

Kommer snart

kommer snart

I refuse to be an energy vampire

Category: Personal // 14.08.2017 at.12:30 o' clock // No comments

In modern times, where people tend to self diagnose a lot and use these diagnoses as a way of getting sympathy and attention, having a real diagnosis or two can be challenging. I, myself, was diagnosed - may I add; by a professional - with post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and social anxiety not too long ago. It would only be natural for people to wonder: am I turning into one of 'those people'? Am I gonna be someone who wears my diagnoses high and proud and try to create this whole 'PTSD-Jessica' personality where I sit on social media and complain about my life being a living hell, and how I'm just a victim of society?

The short and simple answer to that question is no. I refuse to be one of those people who enters a room and suck all the happiness out of it. I refuse to be "poor Jessica", the girl with all the issues. I don't want to be that annoying person who's always complaining about life being unbearable. The one people eventually will start to avoid because it's just so depressing being around her. I think we've all met some people fitting that description, and although they might be nice people, and we feel sorry for them, they're just not pleasant to be around.

In case you guys didn't know, there's actually a word for those kinds of people. They're called energy vampires. Because instead of sucking your blood like a normal vampire, they drain you of your energy. I, for one, refuse to be an energy vampire.

One thing my psychiatrist told me, that I found very interesting, is that the diagnoses shows themselves in different ways. No two people with PTSD or social anxiety are the same. The diagnoses shows itself in certain ways, that are unique for every person. While some people with social anxiety will find it challenging to go to the mall or anywhere there are lots of people, others, like me, really enjoys those kind of things but will instead find it hard and unpleasant to pay for things and communicate with the cashier. With that in mind, I thought it'd be a good idea to tell you exactly how my diagnoses portray themselves in my case.


I find it difficult to order (or pay for) things face to face.

I have some serious issues picking up, or making, phonecalls.

  Videochats? I just can't.

I can't speak foreign languages (such as english) if there are Norwegians in the room / house / apartment. Funny enough, I have no problem speaking english in front of americans or any non-scandinavian person.

I can't work out in front of people, use the vacuum cleaner, show emotions, dance, write (or type on my laptop) or sing in front of people. Fun fact; I have absolutely no problem doing any of those things if I'm playing a character. I used to do some acting back in my younger days. But as me, the real person, I can't do those things.

I sometimes get so nervous socializing that I get physically sick. Like headaches, stomach cramps, all kinds of bad things.

  When I get stressed out, my brain just blanks out and I can't function. So naturally, I could never work as a cashier (which I had to find out the hard, embarrassing way when I was seventeen).


I have re-occuring nightmares at least twice a week about things that have happened in my past.

If I hear certain names I might have an instant, mental breakdown.
I have flashbacks, both images and sounds, that can ruin my entire day.

  There are places I can never visit without getting totally fucked up. The house I grew up in used to be one of those places. The very first time I went home alone after moving out as a nineteen year old, I had a mental breakdown the very same day and my then-boyfriend had to come get me. I was 23 at the time.

I find it unpleasant to walk anywhere near the road by myself after dark, due to things that happened in my past. I actually feel safer walking in the woods in pitch black darkness.

  Certain voices can make my heart skip a beat.

I don't feel safe around people with knives. Even if they're just cutting vegetables. Once again, because of things that happened in the past.

I always have to check my bedroom window before going to bed, to see if there's anyone out there.


But I'm still a happy person who loves shopping, travelling, partying and a little bit of attention. Who speaks her mind and feel confident looking different. Who's not bothered by people staring at me. Unless, of course, I'm doing certain things mentioned above.


Be the change

Category: Personal // 12.08.2017 at.02:29 o' clock // No comments

random names pop into my head.
So I search them up on facebook,
and stalk their profile for a few minutes,
just to see if they're okay.

a mouse or an insect enters my home.
So I pick it up,
and carry it outside.

I get overwhelmed by memories.
Faces and places,
things I've said and done.
So I take my time to text people,
and apologize for things I said ten or twelve years ago.
For things I did,
or for things that may or may not have hurt them.

The people whose names pop into my head,
will never know I saw them,
that I stalked them on facebook,
that they were on my mind.
But that's okay,
they don't need to know;
as long as they're safe.

I watch over them,
not because I owe them anything,
not because I know them,
but because at one point,
when I was all alone,
all I wanted was someone to see me.

When I save an insect or a mouse,
I often have people asking me why.
Don't I know that these are pests,
or just worthless beings?
But I remember a time,
when I was the one they called a pest,
and I was the one being treated
like my existence didn't matter.

I apologize to people,
for things they probably don't even remember,
and I do it,
because I wish someone would apologize to me,
for hurting me
all those years ago.

I am not a better person than anyone,
but I'm trying.
Because experience has taught me
that you can't make the people of the world change,
you can only change yourself
and hope that one day,
the rest will follow.

Treat people like you want to be treated,
and be the change you wish to see.
And if once you were treated badly,
be the person you used to wait for.
Be the hand you wanted to hold,
or the guardian angel you wish you had.
Be there for someone else,
because no one was there for you,
and you know how much that hurt.


So you wanna discuss body types?

Category: Personal // 25.07.2017 at.02:48 o' clock // 4 comments

I don't like discussing body types. To be honest I think there's way too much of that going on already, and no matter how you twist and turn it, nothing good seems to come from it. It seems, to me, that people can't 'accept' a certain body type without dissing an other. If that's how it's gotta be, I think the best thing for us all, would be to just shut our mouths. As long as you're dissing one body type to justify an other, this war will never end. As someone who suffered from anorexia in my early teens, I find it especially provoking that people are so quick to label every skinny person they see as "anorexic" or "sick". Most skinny girls aren't actually sick. But I, a chubby girl, was.

I developed Anorexia Nevrosa when I was thirteen years old. Before that, I had spent years trying to lose weight the healthy way. I first started worrying about my weight when I was nine years old, after being called fat and ugly ever since I was six. Even at such a young age people would call me names, beat me up, steal my lunch because I was "already fat so there's no need to add to it by eating" and tell me that the reason nobody wanted to hang out with me was that it was 'embarrassing' to be seen with a fat person. At that point I wasn't even fat. At nine years old I had a flat belly and a gap between my thighs. I was an active and healthy kid.

At that point I didn't actually think of myself as fat. I wanted to lose weight mainly because I wanted people to stop calling me fat and treating me like scum. The idea that being skinny is the only true way to love and happiness was forced down my throat from a very young age, thanks to classmates and parents. The weight gain started when I started dieting the healthy way. I first tried the "eat small meals every 2 hours" or something like that, which made me gain weight fast. After that I tried the typical "eat breakfast every morning" thing, which also made me gain weight like crazy. What's really bizarre is that I didn't eat much. I ate normal portions, and it was all healthy stuff like bread, fruits, and so on. I was also an active girl, riding horses, playing soccer, etc. Yet, no matter how hard I tried losing weight, I only got fatter. And fatter. And fatter.

At the age of thirteen I was chubby. I had a bmi of 20, which is considered normal, but my belly was hanging out and my thights were rubbing against each other, creating painful sores. So yes, chubby - or fat - was definitely the right word.

At this point I was so done with everything. Being big made me suicidal, and I had reached the point where I no longer cared. I just wanted to die. So I decided I wanted to starve myself to death. From the moment the idea popped into my head, there was no hesitation whatsoever. I put my piece of toast down, threw it away, and stopped eating completely. For the following days I didn't eat anything. My mother had to sit on top of me and force a piece of bread down my throat because I refused to have a bite.

I was very strict with myself. If I so much as thought about giving in, I would take the nearest, sharp object I could find, drag it across my arms until I started bleeding and then, if I was still hungry, I'd put salt in the open wound. I used pain and self harm to distract myself from hunger.

This is how I started losing weight. As the weight started coming off, I started going on google to find tips on how to keep it up. I found a pro ana community full of advice on how to hide the negative effects of starvation, how to stop your stomach from growling, how to trick yourself into thinking that you're not hungry, and so on. This is also where I became obsessed with my weight.

At one point it was so bad that I even refused to take showers (gross, I know) because I was afraid there could be calories in the water.

So, what did I look like on the outside? Was I the typical skinny girl with collar bones, thigh gap and ribs showing? No. I was still a very chubby girl. If you were to spot me on the street, you'd never think I wasn't eating. You'd probably think I was eating too much. You'd never think I exercised for two full hours every day. You'd probably think I just sat on my ass all day. When my hair started falling out due to starvation, I was still far from skinny.

And that's just the thing. Everyone thinks that a girl with eating disorders must be skinny. That she must look starved and sick. But truth is, many of us start out as big. It's not the skinny girls in magazines that are to blame, or the dolls bought at Toys'R'us. It's our fellow classmates, calling us names and making fun of our weight. It's the boys turning away in disgust when you show up to a date and you don't look as slim as you did in the photos where you were sucking your tummy in so hard you couldn't breathe. It's your parents treating your skinny siblings better than you. Some big girls never reach the 'flat belly' stage before they die of starvation. Some never even get past the "overweight" category. Yes, anorexia makes you lose weight fast, but that doesn't mean you'll be skinny in no time. If you're big, you gotta work your way down. From big, to chubby, to normal, to skinny.

Most skinny girls aren't sick. They just eat healthy, in healthy amounts, and exercise once in a while. But some of them are.

Most big girls aren't sick either. They jusy eat unhealthy, in unhealthy amounts. But some of them are.

I think that the amount of big girls being uncomfortable with their body, secretly skipping meals to lose weight so the bullying will finally stop, are a lot higher than you'd expect. So maybe next time, when you're at a resturant, and there's a big girl sitting by the table next to yours, have a look at her. Don't just assume that she's "sitting there stuffing her face like the fat pig she is". Maybe, in reality, she's just moving the food around on her plate, taking small bites now and then, chewing and spitting it out in her napkin. And maybe, next time you see a skinny girl with thigh gap and collar bones, instead of calling her out for being anorexic and "the reason people get eating disorders", have a look at her. Is that, maybe, a chocolate in her pocket?


The story behind the angel on my nightstand

Category: Personal // 15.07.2017 at.17:17 o' clock // 3 comments

My grandma got sick with cancer two years ago. Living so far away from her and being low on money at the time made it nearly impossible for me to be there in person, so I thought I'd buy her something to let her know that even though I couldn't be there with her, she was still on my mind. 

I spotted a beautiful, sleeping angel in a store, and bought it, with the intention of giving it to her. 

As I tripped over my cat when I got home, the angel broke.

Giving broken things to people as a gift is considered a very inappropriate and rude thing to do. Especially if they're sick.

So I put the angel away, with the intention of either trying to glue it back together and keep it for myself, or throw it away, later.

Then I forgot about it.

My grandma took her last breath on january twenty sixth, 2015. She went peacefully in her sleep, just two days after I last saw her.

When my now ex boyfriend and I broke up in august later that year, I found the angel while cleaning out his stuff from my closet.

I just couldn't throw it away.

So I placed it on my nightstand instead.

It wasn't until earlier this week, two years later, I noticed something strange.

The angel seems to be crying from it's left eye.


What do I look like in real life?

Category: Personal // 15.07.2017 at.12:33 o' clock // 8 comments

People on social media often ask me what I look like in real life, or accuse me of photoshopping 'the hell' out of my pictures. To those people I only have one word: snapchat.

Add me, and you'll see real pictures and videos taken right then and there. No photoshop. All real.



The healthy way to escape reality

Category: Personal // 12.07.2017 at.11:08 o' clock // 2 comments

What do you do when you feel like running away? When life's stress - or painful, and you just can't deal with reality? Some people do drugs. Some people get drunk. Some people turn violent and punch the walls or self harm. Me? I close the door, turn off the lights, lay flat on my back in my bed and listen to relaxing music.

Close your eyes, clear your head of all thoughs and stress, and just listen. Earbuds in, thoughts out. Music on, world off!


CELTIC WOMAN - The voice
IZUMI TANAKA - Leaf in the wind
ENYA - May it be
MEAV - Ailen duinn
MEAV - The songline to home
MIDORI - Angelic realm
LO DELIBES - The flower duet from Lakme

THOMAS TALLIS - Salvator mundi
THOMAS TALLIS - If ye love me
MARTIN LANDH - Lilac (scaled down version)
ENYA - Only time
AMATUE - Endless eternity 
KERLI - I'll find you




Category: Personal // 07.07.2017 at.18:10 o' clock // 5 comments

I once knew a girl with big, blue eyes.
She wore her long, wavy hair
in a high ponytail.

When she was seven she heard her mother say:
"you shouldn't eat that. It's nothing but calories".
so she pinched her stomach,
threw her cereal away,
and didn't eat breakfast that morning.

At the age of nine she watched a group of kids
make fun of a boy for having brown teeth.
So she went home,
and bleached hers.

At the age of twelve she saw the other girls in her class
wearing shorts skirts and revealing tops,
talking bout how guys will only like you if you show a little skin.
So she went home,
and came back the next day,
wearing her older sisters clothes.

At the age of fourteen she watched one of her older sisters friends
get slapped across the face by her boyfriend on a public bus.
"Oh, he didn't mean it, it was just a misunderstanding", the older sisters friend said.
These were the same words
the girl told herself when she was raped by her boyfriend four years later.

At the age of sixteen she was skipping meals and counting calories,
wearing short skirts and revealing tops,
there were no spark left in her eyes,
and no smile on her face.
Standing in the schools bathroom,
staring at herself in the mirror,
she thought to herself:

"at least I'm normal".


The monster in me

Category: Personal // 06.07.2017 at.15:49 o' clock // 6 comments

There's a villain in every story.
The wicked witch of the west,
a wicked witch of the east.
The evil stepmother,
a monster,
and a beast.

What does the villain look like,
some people may ask.
it doesn't always have a black cape,
a witch's broom,
or a big and scary mask.

I have a villain of my own,
but she's kinda hard to see.
She has a really good disguise:
she looks a lot like me.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
who's the fairest of them all?
Monster, monster, inside of me,
tell me, what do you see?

Rip me apart,
tear me to shreds,
make me a prisoner
inside my own head

Tell me what I am
and tell me what I'm not
Tell me what I need,
and tell me what I've got
You bring out my scars,
my sadness, fear and agression,
you cause me a lot of envy,
and leave me with depression.

Deprive me of my confidence,
take away my self esteem,
cause me to fear judgment,
and make me yell and scream

you taunt me with your words,
like this is some kind of game,
but when it comes down to it,
there's no one else to blame

This villain's not a creature,
or a devil sent from hell.
It's not a witch or demon,
the villain is myself.

I try to fight it but it won't stop
it's never gonna cease.
It's mean, it's a liar,
I'm the beauty, and the beast.

There's a villain in every story,
that statement is true,
but how do you kill the monster



Wanna know a secret?

Category: Personal // 02.07.2017 at.21:55 o' clock // 2 comments

My friend was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

She was like a Barbie doll with big, beautiful eyes and long, blonde hair.

She was the kind of person that could make any piece of clothing, even something as corny as a pair of cherrox, look like the coolest thing ever, simply by wearing them.

The ultimate trend setter, even from such a young age.

Some people can light up an entire room with their smile.

She was like that.

Some people can wrap anyone around their finger.

She was like that, too.

Even the other parents and teachers fell weak to her charm.

She was every teachers favorite girl, and every boys secret crush.

She was the girl that all the other girls wanted to be friends with.

The popular one.

She was the friend I was looking for in the hallway every day of school.

The one that I was excited to see.

The one that was hard to say goodbye to when it was time to go home for the day.

I was happy whenever I got a hold of her first, so we could play together.

Recieving a compliment from her could brighten my entire day.

I just wanted her to like me...

...More than all the others.

I wanted to be her favorite.

I got jealous when others came to play with her.

It broke my heart when she turned me down to play with one of the others, or said that we couldn't hang out because she had already made plans with someone else.

More than anything, I wanted her all to myself.

"You know", my mother told me, "at your age, it can be difficult to know the difference between liking someone as a friend, and having romantic feelings for them".

But I knew.

I knew because all I wanted to do was kiss her.

Run away with her.

Have her hold my hand.

Promise me we'd be together forever.

I was five years old...

And I was in love with another girl.


Every summer thousands of people gather in Oslo to celebrate what is known as the "pride parade", the highlight of Oslo Pride Festival, to show their support to the gay community. Living so far from Oslo, I've never been able to attend it myself. This year the parade took place yesterday, on July 2nd, and even though it's a day too late, I thought this would be a good opportunity to 'come out of the closet' to you guys. I've known I was bisexual since I was five, and I've never felt the need to hide it, but at the same time, because I've always treated it like just a 'normal love' thing, combined with the fact that I've only been interested in 3 women and never actually flirted with or been in a relationship with one, most people don't actually know about it. But now you do. I would  like to add, though, that I still find it weird and extremely turn off when people - both male AND female! - start sending me pictures of themselves out of nowhere. That's no way to start a conversation, you weirdo! Especially not when I'm already in a relationship. You could be the hottest person on the planet and I'd still find you ugly if you were offering me your body and obviously flirting with me while I am in a relationship. Being a relationship destroyer should not be a goal to anyone. And if it is, then you should be ashamed of yourself. Plain and simple.


Stop putting me in 'the girlfriend zone'!

Category: Personal // 01.07.2017 at.11:46 o' clock // 2 comments

I've always been more comfortable around guys than girls. A lot of girly conversations bore me. I don't feel the need to talk - or hear about - every piece of clothing a person has bought, every person they've slept with, or what they think of their own body. I prefer going to the bathroom by myself, and the very idea of having one or two other chicks in there with me just creeps me out. I don't feel the need to take my makeup and 500 other things with me wherever I go. I take my keys with me. I take my visa with me. I take my phone and my camera with me. That's about it. I'm more relaxed around guys because when I'm with girls I feel like I have to think carefully about the things I say so I don't offend anyone. Most girls, for some unknown reason, love to twist words around and go full drama queen, so I always feel like I have to pay attention to how I word things. With guys it's not like that. With guys I can speak freely. Guys don't fantasize about killing you if you disagree with them.

Obviously, I don't have many female friends. What might actually surprise you, is that I don't have many male friends, either.

We all know what it's like, don't we? You meet a guy and you start hanging out with him. You invite him to movie nights, you go to parties together, sometimes you just sit around and talk about anything and everything. 

Then comes the moment when you find out that all this time he's seen you as a potential girlfriend. This has happened to me time after time. I hit it off with a guy, we spend a lot of time together, and then he wants to take things to the next level. 

When you tell him you only like him as a friend, he stops being one. He stops inviting you to parties. He stops calling you asking if you wanna hang out. He stops texting you. When you call him, he says he's busy, that he already have plans with someone else.

You don't have romantic feelings for him, so he cuts you out of his life completely and moves on to the next girl.

Later, when you run into him, the conversations are short and awkward. Sometimes just a wave before he runs out of there before you get a chance to speak to him. Sometimes just a "hi" and some small talk. This is because the moment you met, he put you in the girlfriend zone, and now he can't see you as a friend.

This happens every time I meet a guy, and personally, I think it's really unfair.

Since when was a little bit of friendship too much to ask!?  



Behind blue eyes: get to know me

Category: Personal // 29.06.2017 at.21:56 o' clock // No comments

Hello everyone. I'm sure most of you already know me, either from facebook, from my older blogs or in person. Maybe you're someone I went to school with, maybe you're a friend or a family member of mine, an ex, or someone that I used to know a long time ago. Still - and because I've noticed some new locations in my 'who's reading?' section - I thought I'd share a few facts about myself.

I have three first names, which is a very uncommon thing in Norway. The average Norwegian only have one or two, unless they are royalty.

I  took singing lessons at the age of fourteen.

I love animals and growing up we always had pets. We've had a cat, a dog, two mice, a bunch of fish, a turtle, four hamsters, a bunny, two guinea pigs and ten degus. I also had a habit of taking injured or homeless animals home and care for them, so we've also had a raven, a snake, and a bunch of stray cats (that I would let into my room and feed without my parents knowing).

  At the age of thirteen I discovered the horrible truth about the meat and dairy industry. Thinking that people would be just as horrified as I was, I printed over twenty pages and put them up all over school property. Imagine my internal heartbreak when a girl said to me, with a 'you're being overly dramatic' tone in her voice: "So what? They're just animals". As if their pain meant absolutely nothing.

From I was about six years old and until I was about eighteen I wanted to be an actress. In the end, I decided acting wasn't for me after all.

  I'm obsessed with anything paranormal. Ghosts, vampires, aliens, angels, demons.. Urban legends, folklore, old summoning rituals, exorcism, posession, spells, latin, enochian (the language of angels), saren (the language of pleiadians), crop circles...

As a child I never played with dolls. The idea of pretending to be a mother, or a teenager, just didn't appeal to me.

I'm very hard - almost impossible - to impress. While other girls will go crazy over a celebrity talking to them, or get more into a guy if he shows off his wealth, I just don't give a shit. If all you've got is a pretty face and a lot of money, I just don't find you interesting at all. Mainly because there are over a billion people fitting that description. If that's all you've got, you can easily be replaced. Nothing that is easily replaced impress me.

I have a weird obsession with conspiracy theories, and if you think that's bad, you should see what your government is up to ;).


Why livingdoll

Category: Personal // 19.06.2017 at.20:31 o' clock // No comments

I've always been the so called 'weird kid'. Even from a very young age people would make a big fuzz over my looks. I remember being six years old and beaten up on a daily basis by classmates. I remember being seven and people would whisper "look at her eyes, she looks like an alien" behind my back. As I grew older and started applying makeup, the word 'alien' was quickly replaced by another word: doll. More often than not I was told that I didn't look natural, that I was wearing too much makeup and that I should "shut up cause dolls can't talk". Just silly things like that.

Rather than letting it define me, I turned it into a username on social media. I once heard that no one can make fun of you if you've already made fun of yourself first, and that was what I was going for. I created social media accounts named "Barbie", "Bimbo", "Crazy", "alien"... Basically every word they threw at me as an insult, I turned into a username. There were, of course, some words I couldn't use. Some words I didn't want to use because no matter how much you try, you can't turn it around and own it. Words like fat, ugly, retarded, worthless..

In 2013 being a 'doll' suddenly became a hype. Russian 'living dolls' were all over the news. One after another they came forward setting unrealistic examples for young females. At first there were only two of them: Valeriya Lukyanova and Anastasiya Shpagina. Then came Venus Palermo, Anzhelika Kenova and Valeriyas friend Dominika Kjosa. Suddenly the old Paris Hilton / Pamela Anderson kind of Barbie look was old news. Now everyone wanted to be like the russian dolls. The ones that didn't even look human.

It didn't take long before people started accusing me of copying Valeriya Lukyanova. I've had people seeing my pictures online and report my profile because they can't tell me and Valeriya apart and think I've stolen her pictures. I personally don't mind. I think Valeriya is absolutely gorgeous and we definitely have a lot in common. We are very much alike personality-wise, and share many of the same values.

At that time another blogger already owned the username '' so I couldn't have it. I had to wait for her to delete her blog. I never thought she would do it, but in late 2014 she did. Out of respect - and because I didn't want people to accuse me of trying to take 'her place' - I waited a few years before finally using it.



About me

Category: Personal // 19.06.2017 at.15:46 o' clock // No comments

Hello everyone and welcome to my blog! My name is Jessica Baliciel, I'm 26 years old and live in Gol, Norway with four cats and a dog. On my twenty sixth birthday I met the guy who would later become my boyfriend. On new years eve, just a few months later, we got engaged.

I've always been passionate about writing, which is why I started my first blog when I was only nine years old. Half a dozen blogs later I ended up here, on Here you will find blog posts about makeup, clothes, DIY and other girly things that I'm sure will make my manly readers roll their eyes. You will also get to know me on a personal level as I will be sharing my thoughts and ideas, happiness and sadness, pictures... And very strong opinions on topics that most people wouldn't dare speak up against in fear of being disliked or frowned upon.



Through social media I've come to know a lot of people from all over the world. Most of them don't speak Norwegian. Some of them read my blog regardless. So I wanted to make a blog in a language they could actually understand.