So after a couple of weeks of being back in Stockholm, I sought help from a local doctor and he referred to me to a local psychiatrist for some testing. I’d been thinking about bipolar disorder and done some research on the subject and could definitely relate to the symptoms and told the doctor that, so a lot of the questions and self-report inventories the psychiatrist had me answer were related to that, but asking about my early years and mainly my teenage years, she seemed to be leaning more towards borderline personality disorder (think “Girl, interrupted”.) I was familiar with already borderline, having known people who had it and had another shrink speculate about it when I was seventeen, so it didn’t quite come as a surprise. However, reading up on the disorder again, I could recognise my younger self in a lot of the symptoms, but could relate to none of them as myself today (except perhaps separation anxiety, which I’ve had since I was a newborn, literally.) It’s just not who I am anymore, whatever borderline symptomatic issues I’ve struggled with in the past (anxiety, panic attacks, self-harm, over-consumption of alcohol, destructive sex life and agoraphobia.) I’ve clearly dealt with in my own way, or as the case is with anxiety, simply learned to manage and live with. I also discovered that the latest thing in treating borderline was apparently mentalisation based treatment, which really got me thinking. Because I have a wicked ability to mentalise, almost to my own disadvantage sometimes, going hand-in-hand with being super sensitive (or hsp, a highly sensitive person, most likely.)

However, I didn’t get a chance to find out what conclusion that psychiatrist finally came to, because I cancelled the next appointment we had scheduled and didn’t schedule a new one, because I wanted nothing more to do with her or that particular clinic, for a number of reasons I shouldn’t get into, but it was my impression that patients who came to this clinic were met with disrespect and condenscension, and with the specific shrink I had to deal with the main problem was, not the fact that she seemed to dislike me and were awful at hiding the fact, but that she seemed to actually be incompetent. So I ended the investigation, or evaluation, or whatever you want to call it, before she caused me anymore grief and slapped an inaccurate diagnosis on me like smelly label.

Recently, though, I started having regrets. Not about putting a stop the incompetence and getting out of there with my sanity intact, but about stopping in general. I sought help for a reason. I’ve been having recurring periods of depression since I was twelve years old, three of which almost finished me off, so I obviously needed to figure this out. And just because that particular shrink and that particular clinic couldn’t help me, shouldn’t mean that I go back to square one and simply deal with it myself, like I always do. So I called someone, a help desk person, explaining my situation and my run-in with the clinic that I was referred to and how I really didn’t want to go back there but still needed some answers. And was it possible to go to another clinic, in a different (dare I say “nicer”, Stockholm is after all the most segregated place in Sweden..) part of town, closer to my day job perhaps? Well, apparently, yes. No problem at all.

So I did. I had a meeting with another, more sympathetic, psychiatrist and he’d managed to get a hold of all the inventories that the former shrink had had me fill out as well as her notes and such. After having chatted for about half an hour to me, then glancing at the papers, this shrink said exactly what I’d been thinking… that judging by the different test results and my answers to the inventories, he’d be thinking about borderline too, but judging by the fact that I’ve had none of these symptoms in almost five years (which he got from our conversation – see how far actually listening to your patient gets you…) and that I’ve found a way to manage my anxiety and keep it on a bearable level, never experiencing panic attacks anymore, and being both sober and smoke-free for three years, I’m clearly not borderline anymore if I ever was. And according to him, personality disorders like borderline, can actually go away with time, if treated or dealt with correctly, (i.e. the symptoms will lessen and/or go away as you get older if dealt with correctly, as opposed to get worse which they might if dealt with incorrectly.) And, even though it’s uncharacteristically quick/soon in my case, that seems to have happened with me.

But, again, whatever issues I’ve had to deal with in my life so far, the one thing that persists are these “lows” of mine, that just won’t go away. So, he scheduled me for some blood testing to make sure the culprit simply wasn’t a vitamin deficiency, like B12, and gave me a couple of more self-inventory questionnaires to fill in and send back.

A blood test stating “all normal” and two questionnaires about “up periods” later, I get a letter in the post telling me, Dear Ida, we’ve reviewed your self-inventories and the notes of your case and come to the conclusion that you meet the criteria of Bipolar type II. So there you go. My uneducated guess just beat the educated ones of four professionals I’ve had the misfortune to meet. I’ve got an appointment to see another shrink next Monday, probably to talk about “What now…” and get some pointers on how to spot early symptoms of “lows” and to deal with them before they full-on explode in my face, such as “Make sure you get enough sleep, eat right, get lots of day light…” etc. All of which I know already. But you never know. These guys actually seem to know what they’re doing, perhaps they’ve got some more aces up their sleeves and will actually surprise me!

Finished the screenplay, outline and director’s vision for an English short film project of mine (“Milk-and-water”, 6 mins drama) today and emailed it to a small production company based in Edinburgh. You never know. Besides, Edinburgh still has this unexplained pull on me, so I’m going there either way. It would just be nice to have one concrete thing to go to, if I’m going to avoid feeling like I’m leaving something behind as opposed to embracing something new. It’s a glass half-full/half-empty distinction, I’m well aware, but still quite important, I think.

Although, after recent events in what poor excuse for a personal life that I have (really recent, as in just now), which has cranked up the urgency of setting my moving plans into motion, it’s becoming rather impossible to tell myself that I’m going to Edinburgh not from Stockholm. But I think a very special and important relationship in my life is coming to an end, if it hasn’t already after tonight’s brief phone call, and now I I have literally nothing tying me to Stockholm anymore, besides habit and convenience.

It somehow crept up on me today, for the first time since we started this project almost a year ago. It’s like I haven’t really believed it’ll be happening, until just now, or rather when we were heading into town with my dad today to make a few final purchases and one of the actors phoned me to double-check what to bring, and that’s when it really hit me: this is happening… and I finally got nervous about the shoot, and not just a little bit nervous either, oh no… I’m making up for lost time here. All those months of pre-production when I was cool as cucumber about the whole process and the obstacles that popped up along the way, I was apparently saving up nerves for a last-minute freak-out!

But it’s a good freak-out; I’m super excited. I’m buzzing with energy and inspiration. I’m in my element. I wish I never had to be anywhere but here!

Anna and I went up to Ljusne ahead of the others to prepare for the shoot and that’s what we’ve been doing for the past couple of days. We’ve cooked six different soups (one of which was pumpkin soup and I made my first Jack-o-lantern ever with the remains!) Anna has made bread, I’ve redone the storyboard and gone through all the props and costumes and everything. Now, all we have to do is wait, really. Which isn’t really helping with the nerves, so I’ve been doing some doodling and sketches for the illustrations to my children’s book.

But things are definitely looking up, production-wise. At least on the creative end of things, the pieces are falling into place one by one. Hanging out with Wilma and her mum today was great in terms of emotional preparation for the both of us (as well as great fun), the amazing Philip Zandén has confirmed that he is on board and will play the father character in the film and (I don’t remember if I’ve told you this or not) I’ve found an awesome old doll, which means we don’t have to make one from scratch (which would’ve been fun, but neither Anna or myself really have the time for it unfortunately)!

I’ve also started my new day job and that, too, is going really well so far. But chaotic times are a-waiting come Monday! But nothing I haven’t dealt with before!

18:30
Anja and I have just had a rather inspiring production meeting by the water in Hornstull and have now relocated to (my personal favourite café in Stockholm) Copacabana where we’re now looking at potential child actors to contact for casting. The atmosphere has continued along the relaxed and inspired line, until suddenly it makes U-turn and for some inexplicable reason we go our separate ways during quite tense and anxious circumstances.

02:30
I am struggling with my insomnia and a state of anxiety that has gradually grown out of all proportions since I got home. I’m distracting myself from stupidity by watching old Filip & Fredrik clips on YouTube until I realise what time it is and that I have to get up in a few hours.

03:30
My anxiety has now migrated to the prospect of getting up at five and start my new day job, one I’ve dreaded starting since before I even signed up for it, and I’m actually panicking a little.

04:00
I log into my Internet bank and check my balance, then get my calculator (app) out and do a little frantic math and work out that, if I live really cheap (i.e. don’t spend any money at all outside rent etc), I will actually make ends meet this month without the extra income of these four days – so I won’t have to start my new job until the 10th after all.

04:03
I can finally get some sleep.

05:00
My alarm goes off – I go back to sleep.

09:00
I get up and make coffee, glad to be home instead of at work – and at the same time, still feeling anxious. Anja has sent me an email saying she doesn’t have the energy to produce anything right now, but if I’m for pulling this off by myself she’ll be happy to shoot the film. I don’t reply – not because I’m being childish or trying to make a point or anything, but because I’m actually contemplating dropping everything and disappear.

12:00
I write this in my journal:
“On days like this, of which I have much too many and all too often, when anxiety roots itself like an emotional tumour inside, one immune to both chemo and positive Placebo thinking, you start to question everything, your own existence in particular for some reason, and resolutely you’re met with a resounding and poignant echo in reply – possibly because you ask these questions in the safe yet also selective privacy of your own mind and rarely dare to actually voice them (and for good reason – any such act of self-pity can only ever be interpreted as compliment fishing and would immediately be classified as “pathetic”) – Somehow I’ve fallen into the anonymity illusion trap of my Internet generation and figured I’ll actually get away with it since I’m still, technically, not voicing them, but typing them, in the pathetic sanctuary that is my wardrobe-like room.”

19:00
I notice for the first time that I have a missed phone call and a new voice message – I listen to it, it’s one of my favourite actors who is confirming that he’s still interested in participating in my film project this autumn.

19:30
Time for another cup of coffee.

Actors Christopher Lemann and Tim Dillman during our first rehearsal on stage.

I’m sitting here with some hours to kill before meeting with Teater Fenestra to discuss the set décor problem, watching some old YouTube clips with Fredrik and Filip and feeling quite nostalgic. Then Anja sent me an email just now that I replied to as well and Nostalgia got some unexpected company, so now we’re all swilling coffee together, Nostalgia, Sentimentality and I.

But that wasn’t the topic I had in mind for this post, at all. Sorry, I get easily side-tracked when I’m under stimulated. I’ve been thinking about filmmaking and how it’s as frustrating as it’s interesting how the process goes.

On the one hand, even though I love being on set, I live the energy and the adrenalin and the creative on-your-toes way of working, it’s just really the tip of the iceberg that is the filmmaking process and as exciting as it is, most of my work and what I love about making a film happens in the preparations for that. It’s ideas and writing and re-writing (and re-writing and re-writing) and brain-storming and story boarding and location scouting and casting and obsessively visiting all he second hand shops in Stockholm looking for props and costumes and mulling over what particular type of bedside lamp this character would have (regardless of there actually being a bedroom scene in the film), etc etc…

So in a way pre-production is my favourite part of the process, but it’s also my least favourite because it’s not entirely in my hands. I can mull over ideas and storyboard and re-write the script as much as I want, but film is a collective process. It doesn’t matter how much of an auteur you are, film is still the creative equivalent of a team sport. And that frustrates the Hell out of me.

Even when you manage to come across people to collaborate with that are as quick and speak the same language as you, there are still outer circumstances that you are dependent on, such as grants, and the whole pre-production is littered with waiting periods. Waiting to hear back from consultants, potential sponsors, actors and crew members. Which makes pre-production a slow and unpredictable process that continuously slows down or pauses entirely, or takes a detour or a u-turn, all of which are out of your control. It’s the tempo that I find most frustrating. I feel like I’m constantly treading water.

But, incidentally, something that I find helps with that is having several projects on the go at the same time. But it’s obviously a roulette game juggling them all. But so far I haven’t come up with a better alternative. Real life is obviously not an option.

The actors are giving themselves a high-five for a job well done

So, looking forward to seeing the finished film. I’ll keep you posted.

The day after the shoot it was straight off to the next thing, which was a trip back home and my producer Anna came with me as well, since we were both scouting for locations in Ljusne as well as filming some stuff for a presentation video to put on Kickstarter.

Location scouting for “Bury me in the backyard” with Anna in Ljusne, July 2012

We also, quite impromptu, joined the Ljusne ambassadors (which I am as well, for some reason) for lunch at Ljusne’s only café and then tagged along on a guided tour of parts of Ljusne. It was quite fun. In an ironic sort of way, at least.

“Bridge”

And definitely worth while, since one of the other ambassadors offered up their house for the shoot. We went a had a look at it later on and the exterior isn’t quite right, but the interior will probably work just fine, and here’s the really good news: I’ve fallen in love with another house that would be perfect in the film.

And, if the owners of that house agrees to let us film their house, we can shoot the exterior shots there and then fake the interiors from the other place, because the windows are identical !

On Anna’s last day in Ljusne we took a break from the project and went out to the little island outside the coast of Vallvik where my family’s got a summer cottage. We went for a swim in the sea and had dinner with my parents, before heading back to the mainland again. A very idyllic ending to a rather unconventional (I think?) but productive couple of pre-production days!

I left a grey and rainy Stockholm behind and got on the ferry bus, then the ferry over to Gotland where I met up with the rest of the group of participants and organisers on the dock. There were some haphazard greetings amidst the rain and confusion, then people started filing away into different cars and heading to Fårö and the cabin village that would be our home for the week. I got a lift from Sandra, a local filmmaker who does mostly music video work since moving to Gotland, along with Emma, Gabriela and Tage, all from different parts of the country. The four of us, joined by a guy called Jonathan, ended up sharing a cabin together. The rest of the group were in adjacent cabins and the sea was a mere stone throw away, obviously the first thing I went to check out — felt like coming home, as always — and after everyone had somewhat settled in, we all had dinner together outside and proper introductions were made. Although not in the taking-turns-holding-a-speech way I was dreading, but completely casual, in-between “pass me the sallad” and squeezing together on the benches to make room for each other.

The first item on the program’s agenda took place already that night, and it was the screening of a Danish film called “Labrador (Out of bounds)”, which started out slow but really picked up about halfway through I thought, as I was gradually sucked into the world and psyche of the female character (played quite brilliantly by Stephanie Leon) and through her, I was also susceptible to the lull of the landscape and enviroment, something I’d only registered intellectually in the first half of the film and thus “seen through”. My aquaintances and colleagues from Stockholm, Johanna and Valentina, who were also in the program, told me a couple of days later as we drove to see the rauks that they’d hated the film and we ended up discussing it, focusing mainly on the female character and her journey through-out the film because that was my reason for liking it and that was something that they could relate to, although some of my interpretations they hadn’t made themselves and although they agreed with me about her and her journey being interesting, they both felt that she wasn’t given nearly enough room or screen time compared to the two men, which I completely agree with. Although I did like the actor who played the part of her boyfriend, Carsten Bjørnlund, I thought he was brilliant as well, the character itself was perhaps given quite a bit more focus than necessary, since he was given more focus than her, same goes for the character of her father, played similarily un-brilliantly by Swedish actor Jakob Eklund. It was a good discussion that started in the car that day, though and for that alone I think the film gets a kudos, right?

On the first morning we all went and got our bikes that the program had hired for us during our stay and I hadn’t been on a bike since mine was stolen in 2004, so it was quite exhilirating to travel across the idyllic landscape of Fårö on one, I tell you. We all gathered in the small theatre, set up in a 50s barn, and four of us showed a sample of our work. I showed “Varma Mackor (Toast)” and got amazing response (everyone seemed to think the acting was great as well, so that felt like a small victory. Especially after that phone meeting I had with a film consult who blurted out that he thought the acting was unsteady and mostly bad when cornered into thinking on his feet and give some form of feedback despite, I suspect, not having actually seen it.)

The afternoon was dedicated more deliberately to Ingmar Bergman himself. First there was a conversation with Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne that I felt was rather slow, but that could have been due to the constant hold-up of translation between French and Swedish, but someone suggested it had a lot to do with the questions being asked as well. After the conversation with them, the brothers briefly explained their choice of Bergman film to introduce and then introduced it. It was “Nära livet (So close to life)”, one of Bergman’s less known dramas, from 1958, about motherhood. After the screening we had a discussion about it with psychologist and psychoanalyst Ylva Axelsson and her husband Tomas Axelsson, theologian and founder of Existential Film Festival.

We spent all of the second morning watching more of people’s work and it was both inspiring and awe-inspiring, which is saying something since usually I’m not easily impressed, but I really was.A few films may have stood out more than others, but that was exclusively due to personal taste and the mood of the day, not at all due to a higher standard or something like that. Also, what I think contributed a lot to my being so overwhelmed by impression and inspiration was that the quality of work barely varied, but genre and story/subject (it was a mix of fiction and documentary, and in one awesome case the mix of both) did. A personal treat for me, was to finally get to see “Århundradets brott (Damaged ones)”, Johanna’s film that I worked on last summer, as well as Valentina’s film “Séptimo (Beast)” (which I had no part in what-so-ever but been wanting to see for ages anyway.)

Later that afternoon was my personal high light of the Bergman week activities, namely the Suzanne Osten lecture in which she talked about herself, her mother Gerd Osten and Ingmar Bergman. I couldn’t even begin to summarize the lecture or explain why I was so inspired by it and Suzanne herself, all I can say is that she is a force of nature. And I think you could actually argue that she has almost single-handedly paved the way for myself and all the other female directors of my generation in this country. That alone entitles her to a patron sainthood in the film sector of the sisterhood, wouldn’t you say?

That night we were treated (?) to an exclusive sneak peek at a film called “Hassel – privatspanarna”, which is a sort of anti-sequel to the Swedish crimetime franchise Hassel that was big in the 80s and came to spawn the various franchises of today (Beck, Wallander, Van Veeteren, etc…) and — as a full-on, satirical, comedic mockumentary a lá The Office, it was brilliant. I laughed so hard. Then followed a confused Q&A with the filmmaker Måns Månsson who sort of suggested that this wasn’t a full-on comedy. I think. He was rather vague. In fact, he refused to say which genre he’d aimed for at all. Or which target audience. This guy has a background in art school rather than film school and it is possible that he believes he’s made a film that blurs the lines between between genres altogether, and between fiction and reality, between art film and I don’t know regular film (He later appeared as a panelist on the Bergman-week item “Breaking up reality: a conversation”, so this is looking quite likely.) and in that case, I’d say he’s failed and the film is a disaster. But as parody/comedy — pure genius.

Speaking of “Breaking up reality”, that was a huge disappointment. Aforementioned Måns Månsson, quite interesting artist Markus Öhrn and quite pretentious docu filmmaker turned stage director Marcus Lindéen, somehow representing the Alternative Guys of Swedish Film, sat around backslapping each other and themselves for an hour. Öhrn did actually try to invite the other two in actual discussion a couple of times, but they merely acknowledged his attempts with a “yep” and then moved on to another narcissistic monologue. It was quite tedious.

There were a couple of more items on the agenda, but I think those items not on the agenda affected me more. Such as lunching at the unreal, 50s themed crêperie. Swimming in the sea. Cycling across Fårö during sunset. Staying up til one in the morning discussing the theory of relativity on the beach instead of working on the actual assignment with my assigned partner, Olof. Even visiting Ingmar Bergman’s grave, however touristy. And definitely, my very last moment spent on Fårö and on Gotland, talking to Sandra in the car as she gave me a lift to the ferry, as I had to leave a day early because of Anja’s shoot.

I have to say though that I left Fårö feeling both energised and inspired, but that was more to do with the time spent getting from A to B, it was the in-between times spent with my fellow program participants, discussing the various lectures or screenings, or simply hanging out without discussing film at all, and just the fact that this is a first for me makes it all the more amazing. I have never before exprienced such a genuine atmosphere in a film industry context. In my experience the Swedish film industry is all about prestige and filled with competitive, jaundiced and (surprisingly) often uncreative people. During this week, for the first time ever, I felt the opposite was true.

Checking out the beach with Emma and Gabriela the first evening 

 

And they also offered me a spot in the talent program at the Bergman week in Fårö this summer, which basically means six days of workshops, screenings and discussions, as well as a whole lot of swimming. And networking. Possibly in combination with the swimming. 

I’ve also got to know an indie theatre group called Teater Fenestra, consisting of three actors, with a fourth engaged for their current production which is a Lars Norén play about xenophobia that they’ve managed to get the rights to, and I’m going to be directing it. 

So I’ve got the Bergman week, Anja’s shoot, this play, possibly my shorter short film (if there’s time) and my own play (that I’ve finally got around to start writing), a week’s worth of relaxation back home and some regular work this summer – and.. Learning to drive a motorcycle! Just got my permit! Now, all I need is the time, money, trousers and helmet!