Law study memories

Studying media law next Saturday’s exam just reminds me of the time I was a law student. I hated it. I started hating it as soon as I discovered that law has nothing to do with Justice. It is just turning things upside down until you can demonstrate that you are right, and your opponent is wrong.

Also, I have many bad memories related to the time in Basel as a law student. I used to live together with other students. I disliked it. I shared a flat with other 6 girls in a students’ home, and they were chatty and nosey. The only conversations we had were about their boyfriends, or their sex-affairs, and I had nothing to share with them. I was in a deep conflict with myself, still wondering what my life would have become, and I could not stand it.

For a short time, I had a boyfriend, the only one I had apart from the Austrian horny boy. We never had sex. We just spent time together. I think he is the only boy who ever loved me truly. He was madly in love with me, and he remained with me despite my being indecisive, and unsure about us being together from the very beginning. It was a very short relationship, and I never viewed him as my boyfriend. But it was a nice time. We shared many things, like going to art museums, or watching Star Trek until late in the evening, reading books, having fun. Of course, he wanted more, and I could not give it to him. I decided to discontinue the relationship, and this was heartbreaking for him. I lost a friend, and I was sad about it, because I would have shared my time with him, he was a really nice guy. But he lost the woman he loved, and I know how hard this can be. I can now allege that he is one of the few good things I had in Basel. Sadly, I was not open to a relationship with a man. He would have been a nice companion.

The rest of the memories I connect with my law study are very negative. I never had friends, and I always loved women who did not reciprocate my feelings. One of them was Anja, I still remember her very well. She was an architecture student. Very attractive, although not showy. She was German, and I remember that she spoke a very beautiful, melodic German with northern accent. After a while, I got to know that she was engaged to a fellow student, and after some time she even got pregnant. Anja is the last memory before the beginning of my psychiatric life. One night, I swallowed all my antidepressants and decided to end my life. I was brought to hospital, saved (obviously) and the rest is history.

I officially interrupted my law study shortly after that first suicide attempt. After a short stay at the hospital, I was brought to the psychiatric hospital, where I stayed for 6 months. I left the students’ home (with no regrets) after a while. I met Kerstin. She became an obsession. She was as negative as can be, but I saw in her something that I had never seen in any woman before. The dark beauty of Death. I was very aggressive at that time, I would not restrain from hurting myself or attacking others if they got on my nerve. I remember that there was a man, who was in an out of jail and landed sometimes in psychiatry, who considered Kerstin as a sister, but was so coward that he gave her her first dose of cocaine. When I got to know it, I was furious. Go figure: he was a strong jock, more tattoos and self inflicted wounds than skin on his arms, full of speed and cocaine, and he had a pit bull always on his side (apart in the hospital). He feared me. I almost have to laugh if I think about it, because I would have had no way to win a fight against that guy. But I was so angry when I was told by Kerstin that she got cocaine from him that I could have easily killed him. Sometimes, when you are psychotic, you cannot measure the force you have in your body, and reality vanishes; you are just almighty for a while, and you do not care about getting hurt, wounded, or maybe also killed.

This is the world I plunged in. From University to psychiatry. Some mates visited me, and they looked at me with despise; they saw the cuts on my arms, they saw that I had bandages on my wrists, and concluded that I was insane. Also, I was losing my ability to communicate. This would have returned only about 10 years later, and paradoxically now I have a Bachelor degree in communication sciences. Back then, I just knew the law of violence.

Kerstin. I do not even know if she is still alive. She had a very self-destructive behaviour: with 25 she was already alcohol and drugs addicted, she used to hurt herself, she was anorexic and very unstable. She had unprotected sex with a an despite being a lesbian and she took drugs together with many people, so that she might even have contracted AIDS. These are the things she confided to me the last time I saw her. When I think about her, I still feel love for her. She should be 38 now, exactly like me. She disappointed me in many ways, I have always been there for her while she let many women walk all over her and never understood how negative they were for her. Notice, I was a negative person as well. But nowadays I would like to know where she is, what she is doing, because I had the strength to change my fate and I hope that she found a way out of the life she was leading as well. In the end, she still owe me a kiss. And I am one who remembers. Especially sweet things.

With that being said, I suppose I will stop for today and go to bed – long day tomorrow. I feel more and more back on my feet again, and I am thankful for it.