(CW: suicide, police and drugs mentions)
This post is the hardest I’ve written so far. However publishing it seemed even trickier. I’m glad I made it though.
WHY at all?
I’d like to be very clear with my agenda behind making this story public:
- I’m not seeking revenge or punishment for people who were involved with me. I think they did their best.
- I’m not trying to shame the nation of Norway. I’m not considering myself in a position to judge here and my point is far deeper than nations.
- I’m not asking for pity or attention for myself here either. I’m okay now, unlike many. I’m telling this story exactly because I feel the power to. Because I’m still alive.
- I also know that people will see what they like to see. I can only give you my honest perspective of this all. Not much more.
- This story is told to share the feelings behind the events. Feelings have no concept of right and wrong, they simply exist.
So do I. This story is also a compromise with myself. I’m alive to tell it and see where it brings us all.
I decided to assemble the events in a timeline so my perspective can be seen better. But first I want to put all the cards on the table for people who don’t know me at all and give another set of warnings.
Please stop reading if my words trigger you and ask for help. Send me an email if you have no one else to talk to, but allow me up to 48 hrs to respond.
About me and my message
I’m a hyper sensitive person, recovering alcoholic, who has only been living a mindful life for the last couple of years. While my own suicidal thoughts are slowly going away I have stronger intention to share not only my drinking story and episodes like this one but leave one message to all sensitive souls who feel like it’s just too much for them:
it’s okay to feel what you feel.
The world is broken, not us.
Now let’s finally get to the story.
DAY 1. noon – and first 5 people
“What a cute doggie” – I said to my husband right before the moment that cute doggie ran to my direction and technically ruined our next 5 days of vacation. Not trying to blame the dog here. Just wanted to mention this detail to express my level of not being ready to have issues with my weed at that moment.
(I admit, That was naive behavior. I wanted to see what I wanted to see. Maybe this is why this all happened to me in the first place. The universe has a habit of giving me harsh lessons.)
The first group of people who processed us were the customs police of Kristiansand. They asked me to move the car to a special box where I handed over all my… drugs. I had two rolled joints with tobacco in my purse and a bag of weed in the luggage.
Of course they still did a full search for more drugs. They stripped us naked in separated rooms, I had to wait extra for a female to do the procedure. All our belongings were dropped on the floor out of the car. I remember at least 5 different people involved. They were all polite to us, offered water, and when I asked how bad and how long it would be for us, they somehow told me both that it might take from a couple of hours to a full day but not much more.
We all understood that the crime was not a real crime.
There was no victim
At that point I felt rather safe.
Once the search was done they told me that now foreign police will come and talk to us. We were allowed to collect our stuff and put it back in the car. This is where the safe feeling started fading. I picked up my pillow from the not-exactly-shiny metal bench trying to not think what else had touched that bench before and almost puked.
“I could have just not taken that weed with me. Or not kept it so open. Why do they treat me like a criminal? They sell this stuff over the counter just a few sea miles away.” – All those thoughts in my head were slowly turning into anxiety.
Afternoon – and another 4 people
Foreign police didn’t come. Instead, it was a couple of regular city police officers who said that I had to come with them and they delivered me to the foreign police office. When I asked what was happening to me, they said they didn’t know, but it should not take long.
“Is it all my fault I’m going to be stuck in here? What do they want from me?” – I started panicking when they told me that they are not going to put me in a cell and made it sound like it was the good news part.
I explained my previous experience and background. The people seemed to be trying to be nice to me. But they also didn’t know shit. They had no idea what would happen to me. Nor did they know what to do. They assumed it wouldn’t be too bad. But then I could see how this not too bad started fading away behind the frustration. I was still a criminal to them. A foreign criminal.
It was a hard day not just for me. I could sense the frustration for everyone.
At the end of the day they said I had to come back the next day at 12. And the day after. And another day. Until they figure out what to do with me.
This is where it turned into a nightmare for me
They did this to me in Russia. I had to visit the police daily and sometimes they would totally not accidentally hit me with a door or just simply into the stomach. I knew this should not happen in Norway. But overall I wasn’t sure what I could know anymore. I started thinking about death.
This was all my fault. Again. I’m an addict who can’t survive sober. Why should I even try to survive? I realized that I had a pocket knife in my waste bag. It just ended up there after the search.
I started wondering if killing myself in a police station would help them reconsider their ideas if I committed a crime or not. This was a strange moment when I had those thoughts they actually finished explaining to me how they don’t know what will happen next. They simply had to go home. They also could not see what was wrong with my panic about coming back tomorrow and the day after.
I mentioned the suicidal part btw. This may have played a role in them allowing me to not show up for anything on Sunday but I’m not sure.
We had a hotel booked not far from Kristiansand. A fancy one of course. I knew I needed help and thought somehow the people in the hotel would know what to do.
I was very straightforward at the reception: I said, I have a mental health crisis and very strong suicidal thoughts. Can I talk to someone? Can you help me find a hot line?
They did give me a number. But no one picked up there. I survived that night because my husband was there for me. I don’t know if I could have done it alone. But I for sure realized that night how bad alone can be for people like me.
Day 2 (+3 new people involved)
I woke up and started crying. I almost could not talk. Felt frozen. Wanted to die.
I clearly remember how I was also wondering if killing myself on the main square of this town was better idea? Rather quickly I decided that it was not. Other people didn’t deserve to see it.
In the meanwhile we arrived back at the office where things went from not too bad to no one can tell what was happening.
What started there was absolutely unimaginable. For me. For everyone else first it seemed like a normal day. Of course, again completely new people met me at the police station. New shift I guess. But it was 3 of them at once, and one was always standing around the entrance with arms crossed on the chest.
Language torture (+1)
They came up with the text that would inform me about my rights and they had to deliver it to me. Guess what? They brought a Russian speaking person to read it (on the phone, but still +1 more person involved) . And I’m ready to bet, this person worked for the investigation committee in Russia before. I just know how they talk. I had hoped I could forget that.
This is where the real torture started. They first didn’t even understand what they did to me. Part of my mind was still telling me – they can’t beat you up. But what’s the difference? I already wanted to die.
The text was ridiculous. Well. Now I know. They were telling me what kind of crime I had committed and that the punishment would be expelling me and also cancelling my residence in the EU.
The cruel part is that at the moment I didn’t know how impossible this was. I mean they could expel me, but not cancel my residence. However in the moment the trick worked – they scared the shit out of me.
They almost made me believe that I committed a crime.
At that point they kindly allowed us to leave. Of course still holding on to my passport and expecting me to come back on Monday at 12. For what? The next step. What kind? No one knows.
They were all very confident that they were simply doing their jobs. However I can’t not leave a remark here that they also multiple times called Czech Republic “Czechoslovakia”. Since my residence in from Czechia.
Not sure what else to tell here.
day 3. Waste of fuel
The next day they called me and told me that they decided to stop the case because they actually realized that they can’t cancel my residence. So they also decided to not kick me out.
I was of course happy to hear they finally did what the first people processing me expected them to do on the first day. They will fine me and leave in peace.
Honestly – even a fine I consider unfair and stupid. But it’s not the topic. At that point I was happy to pay the fine and be free.
BUT
They still had my passport and we drove 200 km away from Kristiansand. The police people knew about this. All of it. That we had a boat booked in Stavanger with 4 others a long time before the pandemic. That we were going to be on this boat and then drive back EXACTLY through the same town.
So I thought maybe we could pick up my passport on the way back. Since they already wasted 3 days of my vacation and also so we didn’t waste fuel driving back and forth for reasons that no one can explain in short words.
What do you think?
Of course they made me drive. I felt like this was a personal thing for someone there. If they can’t ruin my life, at least ruin one more day of my vacation.
Day 4 (+1)
Of course it was one more new person involved. Maybe it was the same person who talked to me on the phone the day before. But still. The total count of people that were involved with me and my weed was by then at 14.
But this is it. Now, after more than 6 months I haven’t even received a fine. I guess they got the part that they made me pay with my time and health.
14 people for 4 days were highly paid to do things described above for the sake of safety of their fellow society members.
Here we are. No call to action. Thanks for reading. Feel free to ask questions below or via email.
Here are the direct links to Lars’s websites: nudesnorway.com and milert.no
Here is his Fetlife
here is the link to see them
