The Mind of a Suicidal Person

“Will people miss me? Maybe they won’t even notice.” (Quote from my film Falling Apart). Many people call suicide-committers selfish and weak, but not many even attempt to consider what goes on inside a suicidal person’s mind. Often, we become victims of verbal abuse through people calling us ‘attention whores’, or worse; they tell us to just go and kill ourselves to prove that we actually mean what we are saying. While I cannot speak for every single person who has experienced suicidal thoughts, I know the thoughts that have raced through my mind. This post serves the purpose of shedding light on the underlying issues that occur in the minds of suicidal people, and I hope that it will help to increase understanding and awareness regarding these thoughts.



Displacement — Ok, this isn’t exactly a thought per se, but it is something I have seen many people struggling with. Displacement from society makes people imagine that they are inside a glass-wall. No matter how many friends you have or how popular you are, you keep feeling detached as if you don’t belong. This in turn, will make you feel like you shouldn’t continue living, because what’s the point? You are not even a part of this world. You may feel like you are in a trance inside your own personal prison. There is no escape. Self-harm often becomes the next step, as that is a way to make you feel — or even make people see you. If you have someone going through that, there isn’t much you can do other than trying to hang out with the person more and doing things in a pair rather than in a group. Groups often make people feel isolated — no matter how paradoxical that may be.  Continue reading

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Pain of Break-Ups Versus Losing a Loved One

Ok, this is going to sound very controversial. But there is something strange I have realised (or at least that’s how things have been in my life).

Recently, my foster-father died, after my foster-mother died in the summer of 2015. They were the kindest people I had ever met. They took me into their home when I was newly born, because my mother is bipolar and was hospitalised at the time I was born, and my dad was busy working as a doctor. Consequently, my parents just could not take care of me. But thankfully these two people from the church agreed to look after me instead, which is why I did not end up in the hands of social workers. Even after my mother was released, they continued being an important part of my life, so it’s needless to say that I felt devastated when they died. I had not seen any of them since 2014 because I was busy, so a bit of guilt is added to the equation on top of that.

Now here’s the weird thing, and the reason why I have lately felt very guilty: no matter how much I suffered their deaths, the pain from breakups has always been worse than death. Maybe it is denial, and perhaps I find it easier to deal with their demise because I don’t need to face that hole they left behind. But whenever someone tells me that at least my boyfriend didn’t die, I feel like disagreeing. As I said: this post is going to be very controversial, but I am going to go underneath the roots of why things are like that. Continue reading

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Poem by me: On a Floor of Glass

Being with you is like walking on a floor made of glass.

A smooth surface reflecting light

That withers away my true sight.

You are a leopard chasing me with passion.

Unable to run, I’m slipping in an unstable fashion.

Curled up on the floor, gripped by your charm

As you take me with your masculine arm

Roughly pushing away my sanity.

You probably think I’m a slut possessed by vanity;

Consumed by the prying eyes of many

Yet you’re the only one to whom I’d give a penny.

Words and confessions are rocks on this floor of glass;

I’m screwed and left falling for you on my ass.


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Poem by me: Burning my Cigarette

Title: Burning my Cigarette        By: Jorun Bork          Genre: Poetry



Inhaling the smoke from a cigarette

Between my wet lips, thinking about

The million cigarettes releasing CO2 simultaneously.

Mocking myself, as I can quit any time, but

Choose not to while listening to Lana Del Rey.

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Thoughts on Tinder

I have been Tinder for exactly 3 months and 10 days now after one of my friends told me to it get on cheer-tour in Budapest. Then when drunk, I did. Below I will discuss my thoughts on the app, and also whether love can be found on that app and the process of finding love there compared to reality.

Image result for tinder

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Poem by me: Thank You

After a deadly fire,

Soil is awaiting to be re-born.

Nature will always push through

And from ruins create something new.


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Poem by me: I Lost You

Title: I Lost You     By: Jorun Bork     Genre: poetry, own twist on a sestina


We started off as best friends

On this campus we call home.

You were my first real one-night stand,

Feeding an endless sense of desire.

We both were unable to resist

As finally one plus one equalled two.

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