What is to fit in,; in what do we need to fit in? In highly controlled societies to my experience mental illness, out-of-order behavior, oddness scare people and bring out feelings of contempt. Such oddities must be cleaned away for them not to influence and inflict disorder and issues too demanding to handle and face. It has been a great disappointment and constant topic of surprise to find out over and over again the relic of disgust against those who do not fit in. For many just being an artist is a case of severe mental imbalance and distancing begins to we and them. This happens inside art and out of the so-called scene which itself is highly disturbing dilemma in modern society, dilemma of why there is an entity of art world that delusional protects space of its own, note space of its own ideology. We surely know what does that resemble of. Is she ok, is she presentable, is she good and so forth: Can she be a seriously taken artist, respect? Obviously good is something that is strictly defined and those who are wed to know what is good know without saying anything, without thinking what good is, could be and of course what is bad.

Personal experience here is important. It is actually all from which to grow.

I have an experience of being abandoned. Abandonment is the sole experience of mine that is the biggest and happens over and over again. Something I cannot understand but have to try because of the repetition. There is something wrong in me, with me is the message and I have to hate myself for those reasons. To hate myself is to abandon myself. When hate turns against oneself one begins to get ill. Because of what I look like, because of my gender, because of the things I choose to do, choose to be and say there are very peculiar hateful responses that put me in place of different, of not belonging which equal the experience of everything that is ill in society not in me. Being a wrong kind of person is in me the illness of society, in me, but nothing in everybody else. It is strange to be the only one to bear a burden of existing as different. Lunacy there is in display. It is that one person has to be isolated because she is a threat on many levels. One striking occasion for me personally, one of many was when I was about sixteen and I was going out with my friends to a disco. I put on little make-up which I rarely did and a tight black long dress. I was not told directly that I look too beautiful to fit in that dress, to that punch of friends, to be approved of as beautiful. I was let to understand with innuendos and left alone at the disco. What I did was wrong because my looks must not be celebrated, not to be put in front and I could not be striking. Nothing and no one should strike out but to blend in. I could not celebrate myself. My appearance has been a burden for the reason of the striking difference and attention it brings. The moment of being left alone was a complete wake up and the silence has been and was a tale of all that is negative, disapproval and that I should not be any different. Me to speak of my appearance is itself banned topic since it is to celebrate myself and that I cannot do. We have nothing but a world full of examples where women are to blame for their bodies and their looks and they are punished for being women.

Women were psychiatrized either for stereotypically being women, or for veering too far from the stereotypes. Either one. As for what’s happening now, today, there is no question that there are stereotypical women’s diseases — e.g., “borderline personality disorder” — and there is no question that women are way more likely to end up being given a “disorder” than a man, also to be given more serious ones.”