For the rest of my life

I've noticed that when I try to find support for my mental problems on various internet forums, I alter them. Not very much, but so that something that is insignificant but unusual on the topic I'm asking for won't be the highlighted area. Like when I somewhere wrote that I hear several voices even though it was only Anna by then. Or when somewhere I wrote that both voices I'm hearing are mean and annoying, just because it was beside the point that one of them isn't and that would be a cause for discussion. Cause it was irrelevant to the topic, and would attract unnecessary attention. That isn't the only reason though. Sometimes I write stuff "for publicity" or whatever you wanna call it. I haven't told people on forums for schizophrenia that I invented, or created Vargyl to begin with, cause it would come off as weird I suppose. See I'm not bloody fitting in anywhere! Not even in a forum thread discussing hallucinations! That's the main thing that's bugging me, I realise. I just want a fucking diagnosis that match my symptoms to the point that I won't longer feel like an outsider in a group where I'm supposed belong. That. Fucking. Curse. I'm sure that's a part of it.

What a fine little prison they threw me in, whoever they were, back there in Dala. I messed up, I know that. That I did something awful in my perfect paradise, so they got rid of me. Yeah, I'm pissed at this world right now. Sure it's got some potential, but it really pisses me off sometimes. I'm not so sure someone in this world cast a curse on me anymore. They did that back in Dala. It was obvious already when I was a child I didn't want to be born here, I hated my parents for bringing me to this world, knowing it wasn't my choice, but I hated the wrong people. Why can't I remember!? What the hell did I do in Dala, and what happened after that? What happened to Caspian and my dragon, are they still out there, waiting for me? I'm dying to know, but I won't try suicide again. Not for a while at least. That thought still disgusts me, but my longing for Dala is like a big aching hole in my soul ripping at the edges.

Norwegian A-HA's song "Swing of things" is still giving me major shivers after all these years. It's only one line of the lyrics really, in the bridge or third verse when Morten sings "and I know that I'll need it for the rest of my life". I don't even know what I'm relating to in that verse, cause he's singing about some girl he's in love with. Is it even anything that I know I will need for the rest of my life? It must be something bitter, cause I always feel sad when I hear that line. Something I have to live with for the rest of my life, and unavoidably, painful need. Yes, that must be it. Anna and Vargyl, they have made such impact on my life and been around for so long (at least Anna) that I don't want to lose them. Of course they are annoying most of the time, even horrible sometimes, but I need them. The thought of losing them makes me sad. I mean, tears pressing, lump in my throat, twisting stomach kind of sad. It's them. It's gotta be. I know that I need the voices I hear for the rest of my life. So, now that's finally sorted out!

Okay, where was I, what was I gonna write about? I'm losing myself in infinate amounts of words today... I've written so goddamn much and completely lost track of it all. What was posted, deleted, saved and put in which writing program file? I know these computer note pads aren't really a writing program, and it's impossible to keep track of the text in them when it's filled up so much space in the file you can't even see the scroller. I'll get back to you on that, and posting this meanwhile.

Decisions and speculations

It's raining cats and dogs outside, and I find it soothing. Maybe I'll take walk later in my dirty clothes that I plan to wash anyway this evening.

Still trying to figure out how to make those dreads look good. The test results can be baked in somewhere in the middle when everything is done, so nothing goes to waste. How much of it should be black and how much green? How far down will the braid of my own hair go, and where should the transition be? How long, or how many "stripes" should the transition from black to green be? That stuff I'm working on right now. If I'll braid it as usual, or the traditional way, my own hair will cover like half the dread, so maybe I should think of braiding another way to make it uhm... more compact, I guess? Decisions, decisions...

Wonder where I put those rubber bands. Should be here somehere. I banned myself from internet shopping for a while now, after I had ordered some nice satanic jewelry that I felt I needed in my collection. I'm not much for buying jewelry just because it looks nice, cause I hardly ever wear any, except for my dragon necklace in silver and piercings. So when I think of something meaningful that I want, it seems legit to get it. Cause that only happens once every other year or so. Well twice this year, if I should count the collar as well.

Oh wait, now the sun is shining again. The weather today seem to be almost as emotionally disturbed as I am. Charming!

Things going well

It seems I need a lot of milk today, or at least find it extra appealing to drink. The blood tests have been taken this morning, well just a couple of hours ago really. It went surprisingly well! The nurse found the vein on first try, I don't think that has ever happened before. She joked about buying a lottery ticket cause of her luck, to which I replied she should do! Excited to see the results when I see the endocrinologist, sometime in August. The 14th I think, but I could be wrong.

Got an apointment to see a speech therapist the 8th at 10 o'clock, but I have to change that. Do I really need to see one of those by the way? Testosterone is kinda doing it's own thing on that matter, and I've practised a little voice training myself. I don't really care if my tone of voice might come off as a little feminine, I mean I am gay after all. And why putting up an appointment for that so early in my transition? Okay, they obviously know I've been taking hormones on my own for a while (it's kinda hard not to notice!) but they haven't given me hormones yet, the legal way. I thought waiting for that to have some effect first would be in favor for starting voice training. If not wait for full effect even. It's quite different for MtF, but hopefully they know which way I'm going now... would be kinda awkward otherwise. I'm not passing that well, am I? Of course that's a good thing, but I'd prefer it if my transition goes in the right direction!

Hmm... oh well, maybe I'll check it out anyway, but it would be really neat if it could wait until at least September, cause August is getting kinda full booked by now. I've got like six appointments already in different parts of the country, and I don't do so well with stress.

*

I started making a few dreads last night. Feels a like the structure of the green hair is a little different from the black. Maybe because it's another brand or another type of dye that's been used when they made it, or even a small difference in the plastic. It's softer and easier to back comb, but it's not any visual difference. Or maybe it's just in my imagination.

Kitchen bell

The fire alarm went off in my apartment. I was furious, cause I had everything under control, except that I'd forgotten to turn on the kitchen fan. So I like frying my saugages to unrecognisable bits of coal, the stove was already turned off when that fucking alarm started beeping! When I tried to turn it off it just made me more and further more mad until I just hit it in rage until it finally silenced. Hope I broke the damn thing. I hate cooking, by the way, and seems there's a good reason for that too. This isn't the first time I've set off a fire alarm while trying to make dinner, in fact there have been so damn many times now that I've lost count. Good thing I'm not so picky with food, when it comes down to it. Warm? check. Fresh? sort of check. Chewable? check. Good to go, then!

One thing I can't understand though, is how it is that I'm so good at creating things in general, everything from painting to sewing clothes, but suck so horribly at cooking. Maybe it's just my complete lack of interest for food that makes it so hard for me to make it eadible. Yeah, that's all I really want from the time I spend in the kitchen: eadible food. I don't understand how that can be so fucking hard! It doesn't matter if it's a little burnt, dry, sloppy, over spiced or tasteless as long as I can eat it without getting nauseous or food poisoning. Is that really too much to ask of?

Ugh... well I got my damn dinner eventually, and it's the last thing I can eat for the next 12 hours due to the blood tests I'll be taking tomorrow morning. Hopefully I'll be practising some sleeping in some of those hours.

Oh! I got my fake hair from Taj Mahal today as well, and the green one is absolutely awesome looking! Neat, now I can start with the dreading.

Nothing is real anymore

Still trying to figure things out, or rather just explain what I can't figure out. How can I tell what is real? is appearently a question google can't answer for me. I suppose no one can. Not being able to trust my senses is really damn annoying sometimes. Other times it's scary, confusing or even interesting, depending on my state of mind at that moment. Usually I just discard it, telling myself it doesn't matter what it is, as long as it's harmless or only bugging me a little. Sometimes it's harder to discard, or even dangerous. Sometimes I think everything is real, other times I reverse it and think that nothing is real anymore.

But the thing is that I question just about everything, silly little things that really don't matter if they're real or not. Like is that a strange perfume I smell in my apartment? Has someone been in here and moved that book or have I just forgotten that I moved it myself? Did it really rain or did I just imagine it? Dreams is another such thing messing with my perception of reality. What I dreamt and what happened in reality, can be kinda hard to tell. Conversations, or places I've been to.

It's not actually the uncertainty of what my senses are telling me that is so damn annoying, but more so the consequenses of this long term confusion things I didn't question before. It's not just my computer's glitches or the stains on my shirt that are mysterious, it's every little or big thing I ever come across. Things that have been so obviously real for my entire life that I suddenly start wondering if they are a figment of my imagination. Like if my friends are real and old memories that I've been told actually happened, but then the same person that verified the memory in the first place now says it didn't happen. It's messing me up on so many levels I can hardly comprehend it!  

Does that mean the original memory was never real to begin with, but I believed that it was and remembered asking about it, but the memory of asking about the first memory was also not real? Does that mean that the third memory of asking for the second time if the first memory was real is also another fake memory? Or that the second memory of asking for the first time about the first memory was the only real one? Or was it the third memory of asking for the second time about the first memory the only real one? Or was the first memory the only real one and the other two of asking about that first memory fake? Gah... see where I'm getting at? Totally pointless asking people if my memories actually happened, cause I'd probably imagine asking about it and therefor creating another false memory!

Have I yet mentioned that I hate my brain?

Possible delusions I have/had:
- that I'm actually dead but just haven't realised it yet (recurrent)
- that people can see my true demonic form (happened once)
- that my friends and family are not real (happened a few times)
- that my whole life is just a dream and I'm lying asleep or in a coma somewhere, and that nothing I do or say matters cause nothing is real anyway (recurrent)
- that people can read my mind, or they're giving me/implanting their thoughts into my head (recurrent)
- that I'm a demon incarnate from another world (constant)
- that I can survive without eating anything/that I'm immortal, and I hate it (recurrent)
- that I've been cursed by someone (somewhat constant)
- that I've through magic have altered my looks (constant)

Does this mean I truly believe these are actual delusions and not real? Nope, it doesn't, but I try to put them in an objective perspective. That others might consider them such, but I could be wrong. The thing about delusions is that the person experiencing them believe that they are real, so it's kinda hard to tell from where I'm standing.

Digging again...

I watched the movie K-PAX a couple of weeks ago. It was very good, touching and all I can really say is that I recognise myself in it so much. I'm also from another world, just visiting this one. He's from another planet, I'm from another realm. He lived and grew up in his home world, I left mine through reincarnation. But what really messes with my heart about this movie is that it isn't science fiction, he's not actually an alien. As the story unfolds, I can't help but questioning my own beliefs. Not all who believe to have been reincarnated are deluted, but how sane is it to believe one has been reincarnated from another plane of existense as a demon?

It's true, I feel it in my heart, I feel it in my soul; like an aching, bleeding, tearing and pulsating wound inside me. It's beyond true, it's the only truth that really matters, my real origin, who I really am deep inside. Beyond physics and the laws of any nature, undescribeable, highly intense and overwhelmingly true. I'm not the only one with the exact type of beliefs. I'm not the only demonkin, not the only otherkin. I don't question my brethren otherkin, I'm only questioning myself.

I've been mentally unstable for a long time, and with all the other stuff that can, and probably should, be discarded as delusions or hallucinations, I think I have a legit reason for my doubts. But I'm also doubting my doubts. If I'm right and I really am schizophrenic, it's possible that this is a delusion. But in my world I can't allow it to be that way, it would literally shatter my world. I've known that I'm not human for my whole life, even since I was a small child. My memories of Dala are as real to me as my memories from my childhood. My phantom wings, horns, claws and tail are as real to me as ever and all the reasons that makes me think I'm a demon are as real to me as my hearing impairement. It's all about perception, and some things just can't be proven.

I need Dala to stay alive. I made a bargain, that as long as I know that some day I'll be able to return to my long lost home, I don't have anything to lose by being here in the meantime. The uncertainty of never being able to return still haunts me, which also keeps me alive. But if it's all a lie and never real, my life here is meaningless. All of this would be meaningless. I wouldn't just lose my identity or my purpose, I would lose the only place I've ever been able to call home. It's one thing living an entire life feeling that your life is meaningless, it's a whole other thing believing your life has a specific purpose and then lose it all. No, not lose it: it was never there to begin with.

I'm stumbling in the darkness of my mind for things burried deep within, hidden, lost or unfortunately misplaced. I know I have all the answers within myself, it's just that I can't reach them. These questions no one else can answer but myself, and I really really hate walking around with unanswered questions! But feeding an obsession is like counting stars in the night sky: it will never be finished.

Ugh, I don't want to think about this anymore. Why do I have to break everything down to bleeding pieces all the fucking time? Is it really unnecessary? Why can't I just leave it alone!? Cause once I've finally found THE answer, something inside me whispers that there's gotta be a catch.

Hours and tries

It's getting harder to fall asleep lately. The whispers are making me anxious, and I hear them through the loudest possible music. I've read somewhere that taking sleeping pills can make you have hallucinations (hypnagogia) right before falling asleep, but as far as I know, the pills I take are more like mild sedatives, but maybe that's enough. Funny, the pills I take to help me fall asleep are making it harder for me to fall asleep. Well that's medication in a nut case.

Though it's likely to be something else, like the fact that I'm just sensitive to things when it comes to sleeping. My dreams are extremily vivid, I sometimes have night terrors, or talk in my sleep and I've had some lucid dreaming as well. So this hypnagogia thing is probably just something like that. I can't recall exactly when I started to have this, but somewhere in my early to mid teens. Which was when I started to be able to control my actions in my dreams as well, but it didn't go very well. I was aware of that I was dreaming and could change the course the dream was taking, but it glitched. Like a computer game! I couldn't really control my body and the other people in the dream stared at me as if they were watching an animal at a zoo. But still lucid dreaming.

I woke up several hours ago, ate breakfast and had a cup of tea. Burnt some incense and did some puzzle but I'm still barely awake. My mind is somewhere else, hardly aware of the world around. I try to read but the words read pass by unnoticed, leaving me unable to comprehend what I was trying to understand. I watch some pictures and although they are interesting, the colours and shapes make no sense, together or seperated. Not even the music manages to reach beyond my ears into my dulled mind. I need a wake up call, something to rattle me beyond my senses, but it's too early for gruesome gore. Or maybe it isn't? I need to awaken from my internal slumber and see what I'm looking at, hear what I listen to, feel what I touch, sense what I smell and notice the world around me. Why does it take so long for me, so many hour and tries until I finally break free and wake up for real? And the other way around, why does it take so many hours and tries to unwind and find peace enough to fall asleep after the day is done?

Still drawing

I've decided to make some synthetic dreads again. Want to spice up my hair without ruining it, which dyeing it would. So I'm gonna braid in fake dreads instead. I've never had green hair before, so that's what I'm going for. Very long, thin, black/green transitionals, single ended. Have just bought the hair for it online, so I obviously can't start until I've got it. Long ago since I did transitionals and it's a little tricky, so it will probably take some time, but it will be awesome!

Then I drew some more on my drawing. Three hours and two corners of churches. Gonna do a whole town of gothic churches as a background! Maybe just a little original? Probably not, but still. I like the idea.

Sloth

Another pointless day is passing by, and has technically already ended. Didn't get my ass out of the door today as I planned. Got up too late. I got some stuff I ordered online, today. A leather collar, in a bit higher quality than the ones I already had. It's quite comfortable too! Then I got some other toys as well. I have a little collection now, of various stuff. Spicing up the sex life I don't have. Oh well, it's good to be ready.

Not much else is going on. Created another WoW-character, to no one's surprise. A goblin hunter, cause I wanted to level Engineering, and I suppose hunter is the class that most benefits from that profession at low levels. Cause of all the guns, I mean. Tired of leveling the same professions all the time, especially tailoring, which is a pain in the ass after 350. Okay, enough about World of Warcraft now.

I've been falling back to bad eating habits again, drinking coke and snacking way too much. Though I suppose that was bound to happen at some point, and I know I shouldn't kick myself for indulging a little after months of only eating vegetables and white meat. Though that chocolate müsli is hard to let go of!

I'm still wearing my collar, though it's getting a little uncomfortable now after having it on for seven hours. Trying to make it less stiff and simply just enjoying it. These can be really dangerous, I just realised. Not saying that I will, but if I was to buckle it on extremily tight and put a padlock to it, it could literally kill me. Yes, it's a locking collar, so it's possible to put on a padlock and throw away the key and then it would be quite stuck you. It's an amusing thought, but I woudn't consider doing it.

I like amusing myself with thoughts of suicide, picturing it and fantasise. But I don't wanna do it. Thinking about actually doing it makes me feel sick. I'm merely romanticising the concept. Gosh, someone could almost mistake me for en emo! That's one on me.

The title: one word that sums up my day... and most other days!

Combining black and white

I'm still up. Watched a movie that made me think a lot. Things that annoyed me, things that made me wonder, things I tried to explain. How locked in am I in my own beliefs? Am I simply theist, or more gnostic? I don't know. Sometimes I like to believe that I'm open to all possibilites, and maybe I am, but all too often I find myself critisising that which I'm not certain of in my own belief. Or is my questioning rather a sign of me actually being open to other possibilities? I'm so certain of the existence of God, Satan, angels and demons. I don't just believe in those, I know they are real, but how they manifest to me isn't always how they manifest to others that are also believers. I don't really think they are wrong and I am right, cause it's only my perception with no right and wrong answers, but I can't help thinking that.

The thing about demonic possession is what's been bothering me the most lately. I'm torn, on the matter. Because I see myself as one of the creatures of darkness, a demon incarnate, it's hard for me to understand the possibility that demons in other shapes would possess a human like that. I mean, what's in it for the demon? I know not all demons are nice and civilised like me, especially those who weren't born as human, but I have a hard time believing they would find any meaning in doing that. I mean, it's not something you'd do out of boredom. Or have I become more human now, to the point that I've forgotten what being a demon really means? I also know though, that even demons differ in from each other, and one can be quite unlike one another. So just because I'm, or my kind isn't into possession, it doesn't necessarily mean others aren't either.

On the other hand, in my obsession about mental illness, it's true that most so called demonic possessions occur in persons with psychotic symptoms, and many of those persons might or could have been diagnosed with schizophrenia or the like. Therefor a part of me would like to believe that is the one simple answer to what's been going on there, that there were in fact no actual demon possessions. I've been torn between believing in paranormal/spiritual phenomena and science/psychology for a lifetime. I'd like to believe that science will explain what spiritualism cannot, and the other way around - but when they overlap, I don't know for which to turn.

Therein lies my dilemma. If science and spiritualism can both exist simultaneously in this world, and corelate to each other, why can't I make sense of it? Maybe I should be clearer: this isn't just about demonic possession, but about all things in this world. Everything. From the dawn of time and creation of the universe to all those little coincidences that we can't explain. I realise I'm diving into very deep water here, and there is usually where I tend to drown, so I'm gonna step out of it before I reach into darwinism, quantum physics, religion and paranormal phenomena. Time for bed.

It's home and it's hell

Bought a grey, three piece suit second hand, today. Wool-mix, 200 kr. The jacket fits, the pants are like made for me and the waist coat is too big, but that can be fixed. Can't help but wonder how the guy who initially bought it looked like, since the waist coat is bigger than the jacket... but oh well. So now I have my first suit! Keep looking for one in tweed though, so that I can look stunningly brittish. Or something like that.

Feeling a bit more cheerful today. Sitting all by myself, listening to Alphaville, drinking cheap wine and trying out clothes might have something to do with it.

Too lazy to make a proper lunch, so I'm eating vegetables with mayonnaise. I really love mayonnaise, I'm eating it like others might eat ketchup, which I don't eat at all nowadays. Only with hot dogs. Why am I writing about this? Beats me. Seems like I'm eating healthier when I'm alone at home, less influence from what my family members are eating, I suppose. Probably also because their fridge is so stuffed I can't even fit in a tiny little tomato there, so I just had some of mom's müsli instead. Okay, I ate two cartons full. I'm dreading the scale right now.

Yeah, I think I can call my apartment "home" now. When I had just gotten out from the psych-ward I said to Anna: my apartment, it's home and it's hell. The hell-part is what I always bring with me, no matter where the fuck I live. So yeah, it's home. The reason why I can call it that so soon after moving in, has a lot to do with that I don't have to worry about being kicked out or evicted, and it's not just a temporary solution. It's long term, and that gives me some sort of comfort, even though I won't let my guard down completely. That will probably take at least a year.

I'm counting down the days to August when things will start moving the right way on this island. Rid it of tourists and get the people living here to get home from their vacations. Before that though, I'm gonna have some blood tests taken. The list of what they will test for is very long, and I have to get my ass to the district health care centre in the actual morning someday soon. They're gonna test my testosterone levels among other stuff, and I can't help but wonder what they will show. Am I doing good or bad with my self medication? I have a slight sensations it might be a bit too low, but I'm not sure if I can increase the dosage due to how much I have left. If I'm really, really lucky they will give me testo right away, but then it's more likely they will do that at a later appointment. I only have 61 dosages left.

I'm counting down the days until my very best friends come to visit me. I miss them so much, there aren't enough words! We have so much to catch up on, how will two days be enough? Well, it just has to be, if that's what it has to be.

Avoidance

I'm becoming more reluctant to this world, and care less about its inhabitants. Most of you know that I've never really like humanity and all it stands for, but that I'm still able to care for single individuals. That hasn't changed, I still care about my friends and family. Before I could empathise with unfortunate strangers displayed on TV, in magazines or that I met online or in real life. Now I don't feel anything for any strangers. I don't care if I come off as a jerk, selfish or even cruel. I won't try to be nice and understanding of those who won't take no for an answer, and I won't pretend to care about what's going on in Syria or wherever. If it doesn't have an impact on my life, why should I care? Or should I say, what's in it for me?

I must admit that I've gone too far a few times though. That guy I met online, I was unnecessarily cruel to him. And at the psych-ward, one of the staff there tried to be nice but I snapped at her. I snapped so harshly I made her cry. I didn't notice it then, but later I started to remembered more details about the whole situation. She hid it well.

Okay, let's move on. How about the environment? Though I've never really been too glad about recycling, at least I could muster to do it before. Now I just don't give a fuck. As long as there's oxygen and food enough for me to stay alive for as long as I have to be alive, I won't care. People around have to literally stop me from throwing light bulbs and batteries among the general, burnable garbage, where I throw just about everything. On this island specifically, people are nuts about recycling! They stare at me in dislike when I say what I think about that.

I lock myself in my apartment, avoiding human contact for as long as I possibly can. Dealing with the crew to the best of my ability: talking with short sentences, changing subject, interrupting them and lying to keep them from asking more annoying questions. And I'm just about to throw my cell phone against the wall when they happen to call while I'm in the middle of something slightly more important than online quizzes. Or when they call too often.

I drag it out for as long as possible, but when I really need to go shopping (for groceries, medicine or stuff for self medication) I hide beneath covering monochrome clothing, sun glasses and music. If anyone would strike up a conversation I just glare at them for a few seconds, mutter and walk away with music blasting in my ears so I won't hear if they kept on talking to me. I just go there, buy what I need, and get the hell out of there.

Not sure what's up with all this to be honest. Yeah, I think I do... maybe, it could be. It could be the testosterone messing with my brain. But it's never been like this before, not to this extreme extent. Maybe it doesn't have to do with anything, just that I'm growing weary of this world. That the more times I decide to stick with it, (cause I might as well stay alive when it's so goddamn hard to die), I simply become more and more reluctant and uncaring about this pit of a world. Becoming old and bitter, perhaps.

Thoughtless

My thought process is a little better today. That's something at least. I had a dream tonight, in which I told my parents I was never gonna have a child due to the surgeries I wanted, and a single tear fell down my cheek. It was a very visual and emotional dream. I can't do it! I just can't get that bottom surgery! Why does this have be so hard? Hm.. I know I don't really need to worry about that just yet.

Then I woke up from the sound of my family talking in other rooms of the house, though it didn't sound like them. Terrified that they had been replaced by imposters I clinged to my duvet when my mom opened the door to my room. She seemed like my real mom, and told me my sister had a friend over. I managed to stay out of sight of them until her friend went.

I'm very asocial today. Just wanna avoid everyone, even my family. It's likely I will go back home to my apartment tomorrow or the day after. Just wanna be by myself again.

Useless

Haven't blogged in a couple of days. I feel empty, like an echoing silence inside me, expanding, imploding and aching. I want to write but there are no words needing to be written. Its only 20 degrees outside and very windy. Yesterday I complained about it being too warm, now I'm complaining that it's too cold. Am I so bored that I'm writing about the weather? Well I don't know what else to write about. I can't think of anything. If this prolongs, I'm gonna have to lower the dosage of my mood stabilizers. I can't just sit on my ass and do online quizzes all day and night! I'm not productive, I can't write and my brain feels like a useless, slimy mass. I'd rather be a bit moody than brain dead.

Dealing with it

Stumbled upon this video on youtube for some reason, and I got a little intrigued cause it's a perfect portrayal of how a normal day is for me. With the voices constantly commenting on everything, the tv-guy talking to or about me, food being poisonous. I'm a little less paranoid though, usually.

It's been like that for a really long time though. I mean like the last fifteen years or so. Maybe I am just more sensitive or whatever due to the hormones, but things have gotten worse lately. Well, I'm still coping. No major delusions yet. Though, it seems the front porch to my parents house is suddenly full of lice crawling allover me and my diary when I sit there. I mentioned it to my parents and they thought it was very strange... so, yeah.

And I'm hearing stuff all the time, and I don't know if it's tourists passing by on the road or if it's all in my head. Very annoying, but that's all there is. It's not dangerous, though a little scary perhaps. I'm constantly afraid of mold whenever I eat something, always looking over my shoulder to see if anything around me is talking or making any noises. (It's very inconvenient not being able to localise sounds AND hearing voices). So I'm basically a bundle of nerves, but not all out insane, yet.

Went outside for a smoke or three, and I felt like I was high on nicotine. Incoherent thoughts just running from my head to my diary as I tried to tell myself to calm down and breathe. Perhaps I'm a little stressed out. Dad is making barbaque something for dinner and that usually goes with something a little extra to drink with. Just one of those days I don't know what to do with myself. I'm not hyper or manic, just anxious and a little paranoid. Okay, quite very paranoid frankly. I'm jumping out of my slippers when a cat passes by and freaking out when my hair tickles me. Some food and a glass of wine or beer will hopefully bring me down a notch.

Not so good at living

I think I have yet another delusion, or hallucination, I'm not sure which. That I can hear, or sense, that Satan is talking to me. It might just be a religion thing, I don't know. I'm really trying to be realistic here, but it's not easy when you can't tell what's real.

Aw fuck... nothing really. Just that I'm scaring people away by just being me. I was on Dayviews of all places, when some guy chatted me up. He seemed alright, even a bit interesting, and I thought since he's writing to me there he's got to have checked my profile on that site. Or flickered through my pictures. But then he asked me if I'm a guy or a gal. So obviously he didn't, and when I was done rolling my eyes and sighing I figured I'll just tell him the truth. Then there were no more answers. I hate it when that happens!

I remember before, when lots of people gave me attention, before I became a wreck. But now... I'm lowering my standards to an absolute minimum when it comes to dating people. Think I had low standards before? I'm not good enough for those people now. I'm on nobody's radar, so I have to look for other people who are also on nobody's radar. And I still end up alone a lot.

I'm still worried I might be psychotic, or falling into some sort of psychosis. There have been signs, you know. Some of those I will never consider being delusions, even though all things points to that. My Dala is not a delusion, it's my home. Me being a demon incarnate is true cause of what I remember, and due to that I know the meaning of my life. If that isn't real, then my life here is meaningless and I'll have nothing to go back to!

This really messes with my head, and tearing me up inside. What if all of my newly unlocked memories are fake? Cause I can't tell the difference... can't I just go back to thinking I have DID? Somehow that saying "fuck my life" seems legit nowadays.

Reconsider

Why did I think I might have DID in the first place? I don't shift, the voices I hear are not my alters, they are not taking over my body when I'm not around. I think I would have noticed that. Sure, I lose time now and again, but it's more likely that I'm just forgetting what I was doing. And sometimes Anna has taken over parts of my body with or without consent.

Though I do dissociate at times, but it's very rarely, far from a personality change and I'm aware of what's happening around me. Well, not completely aware of course, but it's me experiencing it, whatever it is I'm experiencing. It's the world around me changing, not me. No, I don't think I have DID, that's stupid.

Perhaps I should be glad it's not leaning towards that, cause that would be hard to hide. If I would shift, I mean. If there's some kind of psychosis going on, then it's easier to hide, unless it's gonna keep getting worse. Me believing that I'm a reincarnated demon is probably a delusion - but I don't have to tell people about it if I don't want to. And just because I hear voices doesn't mean I have to answer them out loud or tell people about them if I don't want to.

I mean, I kept Anna a secret from the world outside my family for ten years. I've been talking out loud with her and Vargyl more lately, but rarely when other people can hear me, unless I'm pretending to talk on the phone while talking to them. Not sure why I do that more, lately. Well, everything is a little more fucked up nowadays, and maybe that's reason enough - for everything.

Control

I'm tired today, more than usual. Fell asleep around midnight after I had been awake for 26 hours and awoken at two in the afternoon. So I guess I'm just not used to sleeping at night.

Didn't have the best breakfast today. The tomatoes were moldy, and I kinda freaked. I mean, really freaked. I know I have a slight phobia for mold, but this was just insane. I couldn't eat another piece of bread after, cause I got scared that might be moldy as well! I had to hold my mouth while I threw all the food away to not throw up and I almost fainted. When I sat down by the computer afterwards I noticed I had cried, I was sweating and my heart was beating its way out of my chest. It took hours to wash the taste away, both the real and the imaginary taste.

I'm not sure what's going on, but I seem to be extra sensitive towards weird things going on in my brain. As Vargyl becomes more real to me, talks to me more and the way he looks and moves is becoming more vivid, he's actually getting a personality and opinions on his own. He's almost as real to me as Anna is, by which I mean I'm having a hard time telling myself he's not really real. And anyone else telling me he's not real isn't gonna work, cause I don't mean real in that way.

I mean real as in I'm losing control over him. I seriously got scared of him today, when he said: "You can't know if I won't tell you to hurt someone, and that I won't be able to control you". I was just thinking about stuff, that some people who hear voices can be told by their voices that they should harm other people and they obey their voices. That that isn't gonna happen to me, cause I don't trust my voices and especially not if they're trying to control me. When Vargyl told me that, I realised that how can I possibly know that for sure? I mean I love him, he's got me on my knees, how can I know that I won't let him control me?

Vargyl: Why are you afraid of me? Don't you love me?
Me: That's why I'm afraid of you.
Vargyl: Chill down, I won't hurt you.
Me: I know.

Yeah, I'm a bit wired today. Or the last two or three days, actually. I can barely tell what is real from imaginary; whenever I hear any voices that aren't coming from my family members I have to ask my mom if she heard that too. The whispers, Anna and Vargyl, the phobia thing... I'm a nerv-wreck. But I'll be fine, just need to "chill down" I suppose...

Never alone

Me: Do that again!
Vargyl: I really love you, so so much.
Me: Wow! You're becoming more real everyday!
Me to Anna: I really adore him, do you think he knows?
Anna to Vargyl: Do you know he adores you?
Me: Are you talking to each other now?
Anna: Not really. He can't hear me.
Me: but you can hear him?
Anna: Not really, no.
Me: So I'm the only link between us three.
Anna: Yeah, you're the mastermind.
Me: Yep, I'm the mastermind! We're quite a little trio now, ain't we?

Trying to sort out all the conversations, voices and noises in my head, and I'm quite astounded I remembered such a long conversation long enough to write it down. Because we are three now it's a little more chaotic than usual, but not necessarily in a bad way. There hasn't always just been me and Anna, there's been more over the years but they have left and been replaced. At first it was just us two, but then there came another; a fairy called Lisa. She was the "healer" or what to call it, mediated mine and Annas differences. Until one day she just stated that we didn't need her anymore and then she was gone. Flew away, I suppose. I can't remember how long she tagged along for, or why or when she came by in the first place. Maybe Anna had been a little too nasty and I needed an extra step in to help me stand her. I still think about Lisa sometimes, and wonder where she has gone to.

Then many years went and the two of us had an out of the world war for like twelve years, slowly killing each other, until Frank showed up. He was the proud, snappy, Brittish aristocrat completely beyond time and reason. I'm not really sure what he came by for, but we had our little weird, semi intellectual conversations every now and then. But he didn't show up very often. He was for sure more insane than I was, and for a time I found some comfort in that. I don't really know if it's related or not, but he came to me during the short time I went to DBT in Uppsala. I must have been a little extra sensitive due to something, cause I also "saw" fictionary characters in books (others work) at certain places I passed by. I didn't just imagine that I saw them, I really thought they came to life right before my eyes. I probably looked like I had seen a ghost... most of the time.

Whatever happened to Frank I don't know, but I miss him too. Can't we all like have a big reunion or something? Cause that would be totally awesome! Me, Anna, Lisa, Frank and Vargyl. It could be a blast, or another intercranial world war. Cause even though I miss them and want to see them all again, I'm not sure how well they would get along with each other. Me and Anna are only ones that are biligual for example. Frank was as I said Brittish and I could hardly understand his thick accent and he didn't even know the Swedish word for "hello". Vargyl is also only speaking English, though with a vague sort of American/Australian accent, so I'm not even sure those two could understand each other. Lisa only knew Swedish with the language and personality of a young child, so all the grown up talk would probably offend her even if she could understand a word of what was said.

No, a reunion might not be such a good idea after all. I'd probably go rob a drug store for antipsychotics if that was to ever happen. Okay, I'm seeing a funny scene before me now! I'm glad we're just three now, with Anna on my right and Vargyl on my left, and they can't fight with each other cause they can't hear one another. But they know of the other's existence and they both accept that. I might be somewhat of a recluse, but I'm definately not alone! I haven't been alone in my own head for fifteen years, I know of no other life. I could probably not stand hearing only my own thoughts and inner voice in my mind. I'm used to it.

Over the ocean is voice

That moment when your world of warcraft character runs to the rythm of the music you're playing. It seems I'm incapable of listening through an entire playlist on Spotify today, always have to repeat a song like fifteen times before I can play the next and then do the same with another song, skip a few, go back and repeat again. Sometimes I look back in queue history just to count how many times I've listened to one song repeatidly. I've listened to "Killing fields"* nineteen times today, "Society"* twelve times and "The ocean is your voice" by Thoushaltnot thirty seven times. So... I listened to that last song only for three hours? Damn... that was what I did those lost six hours!

Sometimes I get a feeling of that I'm falling when I'm going asleep, and somehow I find that soothing.

I'm back on spilling my guts at viska.se again. Looking at my previous posts and finding a weird one I don't remember writing. Was probably drunk, but it doesn't even look like I wrote it, and the content is rather... colourful. Still don't know if my symptoms or unusual experiences are psychotic or dissociative. Yeah, I should go back to my family's home and dig through my mothers book collection. Should give my mom a call before it gets too late. Done. Going there in an hour or two. Let's see how long I'll be able to stay there before I'm crawling out of skin.

*by FGFC820.

Recluse

I've really entangled myself in way too much psychological/philosophical/existential/analysing crap tonight. Yeah, like that would differ from any other night of my life the last... twenty years. These days I'm constantly wearing myself out. I can't stop it, and it doesn't seem like I want to either. It's like I have to figure everything out. Knowing that it's given me so much clarity so far, maybe I'm prepaired to pay for the prize of it? But then come crawling back to this damn society for the damn people in it to pick up the pieces after me again. I hate being so dependent on what I hate.

My mom wants me to come back home so that she can help me get my messed up habits back on track again. I really don't want to go there. I can barely handle the flies shitting on my computer screen, so I really don't think I can handle living under the same roof as the five most annoying people in the world, included me and Anna. Though I miss the cats... maybe that could do as a reason to go there.

I'm soooo fed up with all the people calling me constantly! They call me in the morning for my pills, they call me in the afternoon to see how I'm doing, they call me in the evening for pills again and then my mother calls me late evening for further more pills and to check up on me. I don't want to talk to and I don't want to see anyone. I really don't.

Could barely sleep yesterday cause of that fucking phone ringing all the damn time. It's driving me nuts! I was very close to throw the damn phone across the room, but I know and I knew that if I would do that they would just ring on the door bell instead. And my phone would break, which would be bad cause I really need it to play music and stuff. They're all so concerned and I can see why, cause I'm shutting everyone off like they have the plague, but it's really annoying. I'm a total recluse, or soon to be. Maybe I should become mute again, but faking it this time? Then I won't have to talk on the phone, I mean. But then they would be even more annoyingly worried and look at me with those puppy dog eyes and am I really that horrible if all I can think of is how to suffocate them slowly?

I've noticed that this bothers people, or at least strangers that show some sort of caring feelings for me. I feel emotionally groped, in lack of a better word. When I try to argue with them that their caring is creeping me out they don't understand. And when I tell them they can't possibly care about me cause they don't know me, some have felt hurt. For I honestly can't understand how anyone can care for someone they don't know! That they just met a few hours or just a few minutes ago!

My mom told me that it's something called a "group mentality". I have no idea what she was talking about. I just googled it, seems interesting, but that doesn't apply to me. Sure I like social gatherings sometimes and I've been trying for a lifetime to find a group of certain people I fit in with, but the parts about "group intelligence", "crowd wisdom" and "decentralised decision making" just creeps me out. I realise there's a lot of things about humanity that I didn't know.

Alright, back on topic. I don't believe someone when they say they care about me that doesn't know me. I don't want them to care. It's annoying, disturbing and even repulsive to some degree to me. It's creepy, and it makes my skin crawl. Sometimes I think that they're lying and say such things to make me believe that they are kind and caring. I can hear they are thinking that I'm annoying and wish they didn't have to talk to me. No, how can I possibly know that. It's merely a sensation I get, I can't hear their thoughts, that's stupid.

Now if you excuse me, I have to go and kill some gnolls in WoW to blow off some steam and stop this damn thought spiral before it spirals out of my head.

Let it be

How did six hours just disappear? Oh, great... I'm losing time again. Time. That is a strange concept, for all I know. And losing it? Isn't that all we do with time, anyways? I mean, how does one hold on to it? I don't know where those hours went or what I did during them, but it could be that I've just forgotten, or that I didn't do much at all for that time. What is time, anyway? I don't believe it's a straight line or that clockworks and calenders can measure ut. It doesn't have a pace or rythm; it goes fast or slow depending on what we do with it, and how much time we have experienced. It's unclear to me if it's because I've lived a lot already that I feel like time can't keep up with me rather than the opposite. Or if it's because I've lived before but don't for how long or even how many times, that I don't really get it. It's rather confusing, all of that.

So, it's 6:50 in the morning. Do I plan to be up all day as well? I dunno, it's possible. I mean, it's not like I ever plan anything. Or I do sometimes, but not as a precise schedule or anything. It's a vague idea for something I might or might not end up doing. I can't make up a plan and expect to be able to go through with it, unless it's very simple. Like "I plan to have spaghetti for dinner", or "I plan to see my psychologist on Thursday". But I can't plan to stay up the whole day cause I don't know if I'll be able to go through with that or if I'm gonna be snoring in my bed in three hours. I couldn't force myself to stay awake if I get in that kinda situation, or whatever I shall call it. Call it lack of self control, perhaps. That's what I do, cause I don't know how else to explain it. So I guess it will do.

It might sound, or look like I'm making excuses for myself. I really don't, and hope you know that. I'm just looking for answers, explanations and reasons for every little fucking detail in my messed up brain. Sometimes I dread that by doing so, I'm messing it up even more. It's like when I try to do some cooking, I put so much effort it it and taste it and change it and fix and poke, wanting it to become better but it all tastes like shit and all I do is making it worse. All I want is to be able to just let it be.

Whispers

I just stumbled upon a colour named "octarine" by Terry Pratchet, basically a perfect description of my favourite Dalarian colour. I've never heard of or read that description anywhere before. How is that even possible? That there's a word for a colour I believed to be the only one have ever seen? I remember more colours from Dala, but not as vividly as this particular one, cause I actually saw it with my own very eyes once. That it can be described as a flourescent, electrical yellow-pink-purple colour. But it's not really, though they didn't mentioned that. In split seconds I see something else, but can't focus on it. Octarine, it's a nice name for it though. I'll keep that in mind in the future. So it's not a made up colour, someone must have seen it before Terry Pratchet wrote about it. It can't be a coincidence! Dalarian or not, this is my favourite colour! I definately have to mention this to my parents, they're big fans of Pratchet. And I might actually read that book too, if they have it in their collection at home.

I hear voices when I'm in my bed trying to fall asleep. From the wall that leeds out to the street. My window is closed and it doesn't at all sound like the voices would come from the streets. It sounds like a couple whispering to each other, like if there was another apartment right across my bedroom, and the people living there always talks to each other in their bed when I'm trying to go to sleep. Annoying, creepy, and I feel like I'm disturbing them. It's probably just my imagination running haywire cause I'm still a bit afraid to sleep. This has happened before to me, in Gransäter where I grew up. But then I thought it was just my parents whispering to each other cause they had the bedroom right next to mine, but I was proven wrong when I heard the whispers at times they weren't even home.

Sometimes I hear these whispers in other circumstances as well. They sound just like actual people in the same or next room. Always two or more persons having a private conversation. Hissing, buzzing, giggles and mutter. So they're not actually whispering to me, but rather about me. Auditory hallucinations, okay I have those. But they're pretty minor, and I can't make out any words from it, it's just noise. So it's not like they're telling me to do stupid things or anything, I have Anna for that! Just kidding, it's actually she telling me not to do stupid things when I have a crazy idea. Cause she knows she has to deal with the aftermath if I do. The whispers are just there, creeping me out or just plain annoying.

They were very clear when I went to bed this morning, I felt like I was disturbing them with the music I played out loud. The next time I'm gonna wear ear phones instead. I constantly check if there really isn't another apartment facing that way, but there isn't. Gah, I'm going nuts! This is actually the reason I started to listen to music to help me sleep at night to begin with, so this started a really long time ago, but appearently it only works with earphones. Roger that.

The thing is, how can I really know if I have halluciations? If I have they are probably just a part of my life like everything else. The shadows flapping like wings in the corner of my eyes when I feel scared or alone. But they can't harm me. Conversations I remember having but later I'm told they didn't happen. Okay, that is sorted out, so I remembered wrong, no big deal. Sometimes when I've been staring at a picture of a person, or a character, for a very long time (like hours, or days) I start seeing it showing different facial expression depending on my mood. Not sure if that's common or not though. Just speculating. I can't think of anything more right now, but I'll definately keep an eye open. Haha, pun not intended! To be contined...

Live fast and die young

You're probably way annoyed with me ranting mental disorders by now, but sorry, I have an obsession I need to feed. So here we go again... you may maim me later, I have to get this out of me. It started about three hours ago in the shower, as I thought it might be a good idea googling the phrase "I talk to people in my head". I can't believe I'm still shifting between thinking I have DID or Schizophrenia! I maim people mixing those conditions up, and I can't even figure out which one of them I have! Self diagnosing really can be fucking difficult... psychology class next? I wish I could get into such a course, but maybe I could at least buy a book on the subject?

I know my mom has a few. We are are quite alike me and my mother, on many levels. Though I don't really know what she finds interesting about psychology, she always disregards all disorder and whatever shit I'm ranting, saying we're just people when it comes down on it. She rejects labels like an electrical fence while I'm obsessed with them and collecting them like any aspie obsesses about his or her special interest. I suppose there's a reason for that as well, that we are opposites on that fact. I don't really blame her, but I think her rejecting labels and keeping my asperger diagnose from me until I was sixteen somehow sparked my interest for labels like some sort of rebellious act. Or I don't know, it's certainly not her fault however.

Anyway, I stumbled upon Schizophrenia again and now that suddenly fits a lot better. I know online quizzes really should be taken with a huge grain of salt, but the thing is, I scored so damn high I tipped the charts on like twenty different ones. Things, or symptoms, I have but didn't realise until now. Before I used to think that: nah I don't think people can read my mind, I don't have special abilities that people are jelous of or don't believe in, I'm not antisocial and lock myself indoors for as longs as frigging possible, I don't think I was reincarnated as someone special with some special purpose... but I do. That's spot on, along with other stuff like talking to people in my head, have difficulty seperating fantasy from reality, weird beliefs and a weird way of thinking, acting out emotions strangely, don't belong anywhere, and even procrastinating seems to be a symptom! But I don't hallucinate, or do I? Sure I might have delusion or two and acting a bit weird, but come on... that can't be enough for a diagnosis! If someone points out to me that something I experienced as real is not, I believe that person. I know that Anna isn't real in the sense that she is not a person on her own, though she is real in the sense that she's a part of me cause I am real. Sometimes I think this world is just an illusion or a dream/nightmare, but that's closer to escapism or wishful thinking rather than hallucination. I don't have any psychotic episodes, I don't consider myself psychotic and I don't think anyone else does either.

Arghhhh, damn! Why does this have to be so fucking hard! If I could just wrap my head around it and think! Step outside myself and see what others see! I wish there was just one disorder or whatever that could explain everything that is wrong with me. Maybe I should invent one? No, that would hardly help. I fucked up so bad, coming here. I should have known as a demon that being human would be purgatory. I wish I'd known. I wish that pinching myself and telling myself to wake up would actually work. But I've tried that for about twenty years, but a part of me will never stop believing that one day it will really work.

That's just great! I'm feeling homesick again. Thank you, thank you, thank you fucking brain, soul and body for making thiss mess of a life so damn fucking hard to stay in. No I have no plans for suicide, but the thoughts are still with me every day. They are. Memories of previous attempts flashing before my eyes, what I felt, what I did, what I wrote. The sweetness of being so close to death and the bitterness of leaving everyone I love behind. I fantasize sometimes, I admit that, but I don't want to go through that shit again. I want to make this life meaningful, or at least survivable on a mental level. I might not be dying like the starving kids in whatever country, or the cancer patients that aren't responding to treatment. But I'm dying in the way that my insanity might lead me to suicide at any given moment, with or without warning. And there's no treatment for that.

The psychiatrics don't know how to treat a person with different disorders constantly interlocking and over weighting each other, cause they aren't educated to tackle different areas like that. They all know one area and it won't help seeing three different specialist if none of them can put me together. They just drive me apart until I don't know why I'm going there in the first place. I haven't completely given up, I'm just expecting the worst, but hoping they can someday help me help myself before I meet my own demise. I don't want this life to be a failure, a constant aching longing for my long lost home, a road to tough to walk on, a river constantly drowning me, an endless chase for impossible things to happen, a disappointment or that I will simply leave unfinished without having any of my goals completed, that life is a game that no one can win. I don't want it to be like that, that I would have lived here for x number of years at it was all just a waste. I don't want to kill myself, I'm not sure I even want to die but I just don't think my life is worth living. Goddamnit, I have to make my life worth living. But how...?

I don't have the advantage of remembering a time when I was happy, that I'd have something to go back to. I've never been happy for more that like a few months altogether in my entire life. As I've said a gazillion times already, I didn't want to be born here. I was born with a broken heart, as I realised I had lost my home. I don't know what happiness is, I don't know what non-destructive romantic love is, I don't know how to party without antidepressants or pills for anxiety, headache and the entire list of medicine and drugs I take to cope. I don't know what it's like to have my needs met, physical or emotional. When people say things can get better, I can't even visualise it. What does that look like? Me being healthy and happy? Not relying on pills, booze, razorblades and cigarettes to stay alive? Not entering a destructive relationship with some psycho and then ending it a little too late? Not being on an emotional roller-coaster that ends in eating disorders and insomnia? Not hooking up with strangers from bars or the internet that sexually abuses me or that I manipulate or try to? Not isolating myself for months and thinking myself to a madness I can't break without trying to commit suicide? This list can go on forever.

My point is, I just don't see it will ever change. Maybe I want it this way. Maybe I want to risk my health, my life and live fast and die young. To get it over with, do as much as I can possibly do in as short time as possible. That is my purpose, the meaning of my life, or at least that's what I believe. I can't slow down, life is boring without insane adventures including dangerous relationships and a dangerous way of living. Life is just not as fun without self destruction, wild parties and casual sex. But it drains me so much I need to isolate from the world at times. But not all of my antisocial behaviour is voluntary. Sometimes I want to see my friends, but not up for a wild part cause the last one really took the best out of me, and no one wanted to see me outside the walls of dMz. Other times I wanted to see you, but I didn't have the strenght or courage to pick up the phone out of fear of rejection or that you'd think I was clingy. Now I haven't seen anyone except my family, the other patients in the psych-ward and in the DBT-group, the people working where I live and one stranger I met online - for over a year. Perhaps it's not so strange that I'm falling apart. It's like I'm completely alone and all I want is a fucking beer and a hug from someone who chose to be my friend. I don't know. Right now I really don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. Some days I seem to have all the answers, but tonight I'm just puking over all that crap.

If I keep up this drinking habit, I'll have to check myself into some sort of 12 step treatment. And what does "keep up" mean? I don't know, but certainly before I start having vodka for breakfast again.

*I'm firing off questions like missiles, but they aren't actual questions. Merely directed to myself or I don't know. Just don't take it personally okay? It's not a quiz, I promise.

Healthy

I made a schedule for fixed times when I'll be eating during the day. It looks kinda funky, cause considering my sleeping habits I had to be a little creative. So... breakfast at 15:00, lunch at 18:00, snack at 21:00, dinner at 23:00 and a last snack at 01:30. Bed time at 3:30, or whenever between three and four in the morning. See how long I'll be able to keep this up, with exceptions if something comes up, of course.

I seem to have fucked up my sleep again. Why does that always happen!? I've been so careful... I'm supposed to take one Lergigan and one Mitrazapin for the night and that I do. Then I purposely stay up another *thinking* five hours, take another Lergigan, wait a moment but nothing happens. Then I take an Imovane, wait for the effect but nothing happens. Then I take a glass of juice with vodka (strong drink) and eventually fall asleep after 7 o'clock in the morning. That is at least three hours too damn late! The fuck should I do!? I can't empty the whole damn cabinet of pills every damn night! Besides, I really don't have enough of a stash for doing so either. I could probably do that for just a few more days. And one drink a day is probably not so much to worry about, but wasn't I suppose to get better habits, not worse?

Well at least I'm trying. I'm trying to decide for a movie to watch, not feeling up for tv-series tonight. Gonna go for a night walk later too, so I should plan a movie around that, I mean. Haven't weighed myself for a while again, cause whenever I think of it I'm too lazy to undress, would rather do something else, or just dreading it. I won't stop losing weight until I'm thin, average is just not good enough. I want to be able to see my collar bones again and the bones in my hands through the skin. Don't worry, I don't want to look like skeleton, not unhealthily thin, but yeah thin. I probably won't mention my ideal weight, but it was ten years ago I last had it.

Malfunction

What is it with me and technical devices!? They all seem to malfunction around me for no good reason. It's enough just being in the same room as someones computer, DVD-player, microvawe or whatever and suddenly they go all haywire. Not always of course, and mostly when I'm in a bad mood. I must be letting off some strange energies... it's gotta be something about my aura. I've had four computers in six years.

They get overheated, they malfunction and eventually crash and break down. It's true that I've been violent with them sometimes, but my anger outburst are the cause of them crashing, not the other way around. The computer I have now is only six months old, and it's already acting weird. Or rather, it's been acting weird already to begin with, even though nothing is wrong with it. Nothing! I'd like to think I've been very kind to it, only verbal abuse and sometimes I act out on the keyboard and the mouse. The computer itself and the screen haven't sustained any sort of physical violence. So whatever is up with it, it's got nothing to do with that. It got viruses not long after I just got it, but thankfully that has not reoccured. Programs malfunction for no reason and then starts working again for no reason. It shuts down without any kind of warning and then it's working properly again. It's making me nuts! And the more angry I get, the more it malfunctions. I'm killing it with my aura!

This goes for electricity as well. Lights flicker and go off short after I put in a new light bulb, fuses that goes out when they shouldn't, things getting overheated or not warm enough. My energies seem to make technical devices and electricity unstable. Pretty damn annoying! Especially since I'm so dependent on them to work, in this industrial age I mean. Yeah, my computer just shut itself off when I was in the middle of something tonight and I had written some crap I didn't have a chance to save. Just like that. I got pretty angry, and now my throat hurts. My anger management isn't going so well... They should have classes like that in Sweden! Or maybe they do? Might be worth checking out.

You know that saying "seeing red"? Well, for me it's closer to seeing a dark, twisting void with blood splatter. I completely lose control over my body and I can't stop my fists or my screams. It's scary, losing control like that. It's like being drunk, you can't just stop being drunk no matter how much you want to. It doesn't matter how much tea I drink, cigarettes I smoke, pills I take or how much I talk about it. I just have to wait for the hangover.

Lovely darkness

I hate cyborgs, I realise. Not a phobia, but they really creep me out. Not sure what it is about them, but maybe it's their imperfection or something, when they start to malfunction or break. Maybe I'm scared that these things, (or people, not sure which) actually exist and I'll meet one. I know that technology hasn't gone that far yet, but there's also a lot of shit the scientists discover and don't make public. Anyways, I can watch movies portraying these, seemingly inanimate objects without too much difficulty. And I can't help that I sometimes like a good scare! Funny thing though, the first Terminator movie still gives me nightmares sometimes, and there's scenes in it I just can't watch. I think I was just too young the first time I saw it. Can't remember exactly how old I was, but I'm quite sure I was under ten. The reason I'm bringing this up now is that I just watched the Buffy the vampire slayer episode "Ted". Obviously about a cyborg. A psycho killer one, even. Spoiler perhaps, if you haven't seen it. But if you've seen any Buffy episodes, you know that when she gets a hunch something isn't good, she's usually right.

I went out in the rain at midnight for a walk and tried to find a really dark road, but failed. The street lights are killing my lovely darkness! And I didn't wanna walk too far in case I'd get lost, but I walked around in the neighborhood for almost an hour. It's quite big after all, little Hemse. I've noticed I have better night vision than the camera on my cell phone, even with the flash. How could the picture not show that the leaves were green and the roses were red when I could see that with my own very eyes without more than a street light 30 meters away? I was surprised it was as dark as it was considering it's July, the brightest month of the year. Though the storm clouds might have had something to do with that. Yeah, there was some thunder and lightning as well. Or at least lightning, I didn't hear any thunder. I wonder if there's a graveyard somewhere in this village?

A new era

Have I gone through some sort of personality change since I moved into my new apartment!? Cause a lot of shit has been going on. Right now I focus on the possitive things that's been, rather than the negative. (Yes I can actually do that, I'm not that moody). A lot of self realisation, motivation, memories I've dealt with and memories that's been unlocked that I didn't know about before.

The times are changing, and I think I'm stepping into a new era. It's rather intriguing, like my vision is changing. How I view myself, the world around me and my place in it. Revealing my darkness and making something good come out of it. Somedays it's been too much to handle (no shit, I ended up in the psych ward because of it), and it was hard in the beginning, sometime between April and May, but it's getting more stable now. It has been more stable for two weeks now! I'm eating every day, sleeping every night with one exception, taking pills that actually seem to work and feeling eager to learn more about life and myself. Come to an understanding and que sera sera and so on.

I guess you could call it some sort of spiritual awakening, though I'm not sure what to call it to be honest. I'm actually trying to make my life better, more meaningful or worth living. I stand my ground and make sure the psychologists and doctors respect me, hear my words and I won't take no for an answer for something they are obligated to do for me. They've been sitting on their asses for way too long and if dragging them off their chairs is the only way to deal with them - that's what I'm gonna do!

I'm on a diet and have been keeping it up for over a month which made me lose 10 kg and I won't back down before I reach my goal at 60 kg and only then I'm gonna start eating other stuff as well as working out like an idiot at the gym. I'm gonna try hearing aid as soon as the doctors' vacation is over. I've discovered more about why I'm so fucked up and how I got where I am today. Finally made up my mind that I am bisexual no matter how many men and how few women, cause I'm still attracted to both genders and transgendered people. I'm reading into my memories and also found out that I remember much more than I thought I did during ages 6 through 16.

I found more memories from my past lives as well, as I before thought I remembered 2 past lives: that I was Kazanndra, a princess in Dala and that Caspian was from another life before Dala. Only to discover that I was Astaroth, demon prince in Dala together with Caspian, and in a life before Dala I was born as a demon for the first time in a world or realm of darkness. I discovered that through writing I'm unlocking more memories, and by focusing on other memories related to those I can find odd connections to memories from past lives. For example: I saw a persons aura once and thought it was some sort of purple, only to discover it was my favourite colour in Dala, and I can now rather vividly picture it even though its structure isn't made for the human eye to see. As to why I thought it was purple cause that's how my human eyes interpreted it.

I've finally found a religion that suits me and that choice still makes me smile everyday. I am no longer moping about those "lost" magical powers I had as a kid, but rather indulge in and "activate" them again. So I've managed to make my natural hair a bit darker without colouring it. I'm eager to keep unlocking and connecting memories but know my limits and try not to restrain myself too much. Learning how to appreciate the little things in my everyday life. Discuss awful things that's happened to me since I know it's helping me to cope with them, even if the person I open up to doesn't even know me. Realised that I've basically moved on from the rape six years ago and that everything I've done and been through somehow is very synchronized and complete. It all led me here, and I have no idea who I would have been if it would have been different - and to be honest, I don't think I would have liked that guy!

All of this in a just couple of months. I've made some damn progress lately! For years I've been sitting on my ass and just waited for better times, for things to get better all by themselves. One thing Satanism has tought me: you've gotta work for things to get better! You can't just expect that things will dramatically change for the better if you just pray enough! Now all of that isn't really new for me, I mean I've known that since I barely had learnt to speak, but it really isn't about that. The thing is that I've come to terms with it, challenge accepted! I have a lot of things to work with, and taking them one by one is probably simpler, but I know that I have to work on everything at once to be able to accomplish something. Little by little, of course, but I can't start with only being healthier, only self explore, only be creative or only fighting my ass off to get the morons at the psychiatry department to do their job - I have to do it all, or it won't work. They depend on each other and I depend on them.

Harpsicord is my new favourite word. It's beautiful and a wonderful music instrumment, even in more modern compositions. Bring the baroque back!



Soundtrack: Nox Arcana - Days of the Olde

Splintered

I'm feeling rather splintered tonight. I'm torn between all the different sides of me. It's better when I'm obsessed with just one of these sides: the emotionally unstable, the generally awkward, the morally corrupt, the side torn between genders, the one that can't handle Anna or the side of me that can just simply explain everything with that I'm demonkin and longing to go back to Dala. I really hate it when they all hit me at once. "Confusing" is just not enough to describe it, "torn to fucking pieces" would be closer to the truth. Time to try out that Zyprexa now, perhaps? Maybe it won't work so well with alcohol though... well, it's too late now.

The more I discover about myself, awakenings I have, memories I unlock, accepting who I am and who I was... the less I know. How can I lose more, the more I gain? It doesn't make sense to me! I'm a fucking mess and I can't tell what's front from back anymore. I don't know who I am. I've lost myself on my journey to find myself. Must have taken the wrong turn somewhere, but I know all that shit is true. They all fit one by one, but together it doesn't make any sense at all. Someone once said that people with DID are prone to collect other mental disorders like a fly trap. But I'm not that shattered, am I? I mean I doubt I have more than one extra personality, cause I'm aware of all I do and think at each time. But I do shift. Those days I obsess about a specific label of mine I am that person. Then another day I obsess about something else, thinking I was silly last "episode" and then I am that other person. And that just keeps going. Just in how many pieces is my personality!? One for each disorder... now how about that.

Now I've wrapped myself in that web again... I can't helpt it! I wish I could just let it go, and just be me. But who the hell is that...? I suppose that's why these days are the worst, because I see myself as shattered pieces of a broken mirror, each reflecting a different face of me. That somehow all of those pieces are me, but I can't put them together. These days I'm the most complete cause I see everything side by side, but also the most shattered. I've lost myself in all those labels and disorders and I doubt that I will ever be complete. The more I discover, the more are the pieces I can't put together. I suppose this is why I identify so much with jigsaw puzzles. I saw this lovely picture when I googled, just fits my mood so good right now:

I read texts people write, or hear story's people tell about how they found themselves after some great self discovery, and I just wish it could be like that for me. But the more I discover about myself the more I lose myself in that endless void of ranting and self pity. I'm like: "Oh, another great self discovery! I'll put that in the pile of every other I've had since I was twelve".

I've got this years first mosquito bite! I didn't notice at first, cause I had forgotten what those felt like. Must have been like two years since the last one. They don't seem to find me attractive, I wear full body clothing, blowing cigarette smoke everywhere and am really quick catching the little bastards before they get a chance. Not this time though, obviously. God, it itches! Okay, maybe I supressed the memories of how those bites feel like.

Damn, this pill isn't working. It's supposed to work instantly, but all I feel is headache from still being awake at 7:54, slightly tipsy from my juice/vodka drink and lots of anxiety. I kinda freaked on the package for the pills though. That sort of annoying tin foile blister pack with extra child proof security that can make anyone go nuts. If you didn't have an anxiety attack before, you really get one trying to pluck out that tiny little fucker of a pill. Violence and various sharp objects fixed the problem though.

I should go to sleep, but something is crawling inside me. I'm not sure I'd want to know what exactly, but is sure doesn't feel too good. Maybe I should just rely on the vodka to calm me down, and no that wasn't a question. Don't worry, I'm not drinking that much. I hardly think a couple of drinks a week is something to worry about. I had a glass of Bailey's the other day, and that was all I had for a week. And the two I'm downing tonight shouldn't be accounted for the week that has been, cause it's technically Monday now. And how does cutting down smoking going? Well, you know me. Not so good, due to lack of motivation and the pros and cons are kinda leaning towards self destruction and instant gratification. I can't go many days, no make that hours, without some sort of self destruction. And since I'm not cutting anymore, or at least just very seldom, I'm looking for that satisfaction elsewhere. In cigarettes, booze, pills and what not. Though I'm trying very hard with sleeping and eating correctly, I'm not succeeding very well.

It was easy at the psych-ward when they rushed me to bed at night, woke me up contineously until I got out of bed and served me food at precise hours. Getting those sorts of things working on my own is one hell of a task. Sure I got the crew helping me out where I live, but it's not like they can nap me and feed me. *Shrug* wouldn't want that either! Uhuu... okay, now it's just my mind making up horrible scenarios. Vodka kicking in, finally.

My love for disorder

I feel disconnected, distant, distracted today. I've done online quizzes, scrolled at forums, washed some clothes and written two poems. But I can't get into anything, it's like I'm looking at the world through a mist, detached from myself and everything around me. Like some sort of very mild dissociation, or rather just more disconnected than usual. Still thinking about the DID thing, realising my curiosity is killing me. Well, not in the literal sense of course, but with me it can be hard to tell, I guess. Wrote a thread on the DID-forum asking for opinions about my situation, will be interesting to see what they think about that. I mean there's a lot of indicators that I have that, but also a lot that doesn't fit. We're getting by quite okay now, me and Anna, so I suppose this is just me doing my own psycho analysis again. Dying to know the truth (again, not literally). This is most likely not related to my alter egos I mentioned in a previous entry though, cause that's just my imagination running wild, but Anna... she's not a creation, well not a conciously made one at least.

Where was I? Yeah I'm tired and can barely focus on what I'm writing right now. I have no energy what so ever, less than normal, and that is very little, as I suppose you can imagine. If I had any less energy I would be asleep. Trying to watch a movie I haven't seen before but with my attention span I'll probably not finish watching until the dawn. Wanted to see another movie depicting a person with DID. Of those listed on Wikipedia I've seen Sybil, Fight Club, The Machinist, The Number 23, Shutter Island, Sucker Punch, Black Swan, The Jacket, Secret Window, Birdie and Waking Madison which is not mentioned there. The latter is one of my new favourite movies, though it's not so popular. I recognise the actress who plays the main character, but I can't place her. She looks just like Thirteen (Remy Hadley) in the House M.D. series, but's it's not the same actress. So I thought I should add another of these kind of movies to my collection. I love watching movies depicting people with mental disorders! Yeah, I suppose I'm a bit obsessed with that. And no I can't aim for being a psychologist, there's no way in hell I'm gonna get accepted to that kind of education with my grades (or lack there of). Behaviour scientist though, is at least possible, but I have to get mathematic course B then, which will and has been, a hell to study. Though I suppose that I shouldn't give up just yet.

Listening to FGFC820 and trying to decide when I should go to bed. How much of the night can I lose? Or rather, how much of the nights do I really need? Cause I need to be awake daytime as well, and appearently my body wants me to sleep for 12 hours straight, so I only get 12 hours to be awake. So I really need to put those hours on a time that is useful for me and functional. I hate math...

Consequences

I can't find my leather choker. Rifled through the whole apartment, knowing I held it not long before I went off to the psych-ward. One of them, to be precise. I don't wanna have the one with pointy studs and the other one is too thin to serve its purpose. Yeah, I feel the need to have a collar of some sort hiding my scar. But I suppose a scarf will do. I should invest in more scarves! I suppose I have to pay for my own stupidity now. Yeah, it's oh so cool to have a permanent necklace... until you realise that it's permanent. Of course I didn't strangle myself to get that scar, only that I right after thought is looked kinda cool. And suicide attempts are always a stupid thing to do, even I know that.

Sometimes I create accounts on internet forums stating that I'm an entirely different person, creating alter egos and sometimes I even act out on these in public. Dress differently, talk differently, make up a different personility and defending it as that actually being me. Sometimes I even feel like I am that person. I've been debating this with Anna (my sounding board) asking her what the hell is going on with me. She says it's just my creativity, and I suppose it is that simple, but I still can't help but wonder if it's something else going on. No, I know I'm creating alter egos as book characters, World of Warcraft characters and imaginary friends. And as long as I know they aren't real I don't have to worry, right? Someone said something about "tulpa" on a forum. Creating a fictive character at the point of almost believing it's real. Having conversations in my head with these characters, elaborating their personalities and behaviours, use of language and so on. And sometimes take on the form of being that character. I suppose it's rather close to some sort of roleplay. Though sometimes I can't help but wonder if maybe I'm going too far.

I'm back on writing on Grimston Estate again and realising my grammar wasn't exactly top notch when I wrote it a year ago. It probably isn't now either, but you get my point. It's a bit of a challenge writing a (short) novel in English, even for me, but when it comes to fiction, I believe it's even more of a challenge writing in Swedish. And I have to decide for one language so.

Motivation

I woke up the world seemed to spin a bit, and my head hurt more than usual. If it's gonna be like this everyday when I wake up, how the hell am I supposed to wanna get out of bed? I need to find some motivation.

The world is still spinning, but I don't notice it much when sitting still. Wonder what that's all about. Is it my medicine? I've stopped taking Imovane, but have it perscribed to take when I need to. I'm drinking quite much (not alcohol!); mostly juice or milk, up to five or six glasses a day and one coffee every other day or so, so it's probably not that. Maybe I'm not eating enough? Breakfast/lunch and dinner. Or maybe it's something else. I really need to fix up my habits and get some routine on sleeping and eating and start exercising. When is that gym in Hemse open now again? Gonna go to ICA tomorrow so I can check it out on the way.

Starting to experience more effects on the testosterone again. Increased libido, voice changes, the way I smell. Those were my first changes last time I started using testogel as well. Guess I know my way around that now. Hopefully my supply will be enough until I get to see endocrinologist in August/September, and he/she better give me hormones right away! Yeah, I'm a bit impatient, but can you blame me?

This day hasn't been very productive at all. I'm kind of distant, dizzy and slow-witted today. Gonna try if I can wip up a poem, though I have no idea what I could possibly want write about.

Just like magic

My natural looks have changed and are changing, does that mean they're not actually my natural looks, even though they are permanent? As a child I had blue-gray eyes, light/medium brown hair, light beige skin, an oval shaped face that was more feminine. Now I have green eyes, dark brown hair, very pale skin with freckles and a more square shaped face. Magic powers and testosterone. Yeah, my natural hair colour is finally getting darker! (I'll post a picture if you don't believe me). And no, I don't have genes for that, I have my fathers hair: thick, medium brown that stays like that until it turns gray. Mine changes, because I will it to. Same with my eyes and freckles, that I "fixed" when I was around 10 years old. Less sure about my skin tone, but it's possible I changed that by will too, or it's just lack of sunlight and bad habits, which is more likely. The shape of my face is changing with testosterone, and since it's not my own body producing that but me adding it, I guess I can't really call that a natural change either. I'm not ment to have light green eyes leaning towards hazel, it goes against my true natural colours. They have a warm tone, and the rest has cold tones. So... I'm not naturally coloured, I'm created!

Yeah, I use my magic for so useful things... but it's not like I'm a wizard or anything, I can only do small things over longer periods of time, and only if I really want it. It's not like I can teleport myself or turn invisible. I think I'm starting to get back on track with this! That's good, to have something to smile about every now and then.

Picture taken about three weeks ago, right before I went to the psych-ward.

The little things

Thought I'd write something different of a poem, what goes on outside my head as opposed what's going on inside it. It's basically about me standing by my livingroom window for just a few minutes, or maybe just a few seconds. It doesn't have to be more complicated than that. I just love writing poerty! Sometimes I produce three a day, sometimes it goes weeks between two poems. They're almost all in English, cause yeah, English rocks! What would I do without this language? Perhaps becoming better in Swedish... or not, how can I know. I've posted a few in an otherkin forum, related to that and got some positive feedback. Those little things in life, I'm really enjoying them lately, even if it's just a cup of tea. It's something to hold on to when you don't really have that much to hold on to.

"Swirling cigarette smoke
around my curtains
I stand by the window
to watch the sun go down

A chilly breeze finds its way
through my hair
I'm barely distracted
from the thoughts in my head

A coffee cup too warm to hold
the sweet milky sip
caressing my dry mouth
just before the smoke dries it again

A warming robe not doing its job
as the coldness holds me tightly
the lingering headache, always there
as a bitter reminder
that I'm still here"


http://otherkincommunity.net/forums - in case anyone is interested in which forum I'm babbling about all the time. I'm Azubah there.

Don't become like me

Suicide was never an easy way out. Never. Everyone who thinks that should feel what I felt, think what I thought, see what I saw. When I held those pills, that razor blade or that ear phone cable in my shaking hands just a moment before. In so much pain it can't be measured by anything, quilt for leaving those I love behind, massive amounts of fear of what would happen if I don't die and wake up damaged or of what will happen after I'm dead. Scared of doing it wrong, scared of doing it right, scared of living and scared of dying. Screams suffocated, tears that only barely reaches my eyes. Can't stop shaking, hands are getting cold, mouth dry, feeling dizzy and faint. Wait for the night when everyone has gone to bed. Drink or overdose medicines just to get the strength enough to do it. Just get it over with. It's the hardest decision I've ever made, and I made it fifteen times. It holds no solution, it gives no answers, and you can't possibly know what's gonna happen after you've downed those pills, cut that razor, tied that noose or whatever your method is. No suicide method is hundred percent sure. Not one.

I suppose it was easier when I was sixteen and seventeen, almost getting used to taking overdoses and hope I wouldn't wake up again. I thought it was safe, that no one cared about me, that if I wasn't gonna die I was just gonna wake up the next day and everything would be fine, didn't really care where I might or might not end up in an afterlife if there even was one. But with persistant behaviour like this, you're likely to end up in a chatroom somewhere with other suicidal people, trying to give each other the smallest string of hope. They will inform you of the risks of a suicide attempt. They'll tell you the story of the man who jumped off a fifteen stores building and survived with irreperable permanent damage. Or about the woman that shot herself in the head and survived, but disfigured, blind and deaf. These story's, or images will follow you whenever you start thinking of suicide again. A fate worse than the life you have now, are you willing to take that risk? (I'll whisper in your ear: however horrible you think your life is now, it can always get worse. Trust me, I know.)

Important note about my book

I just want to say something, for everyone who waits for my autobiography to finish and get published. Because of the risk of messing up my gender transition I won't make my book public until I have finished my transition.

It's because of Anna, as you might have already figured out. If I was to even whisper the word "psychosis" in any kind of circumstances where any of the shrinks or doctors I see can hear, I won't get my gender reassignment treatment. They are VERY sensitive on that matter. I had to work my brains out for years to wash off my "psychotic symptoms" mark in the chart from late 2005. I realise now: that was why Uppsala messed things up for me. For a little episode that happened four years before I even went to the team there. I'm scared for my life on that matter, and with damn good reasons. As I was literally dying to get the help I needed from them, just a week ago, I won't fuck this up for anything in the world.

So if I was to get this book public as soon as it's done, there's a risk the psychiatric departments will get a hold on the information that I have written in it, and I'd rather take a bullet than to take that, probably quite small risk. So I guess what I'm saying is that I don't know when I will be making my book public. It all depends on how long this is gonna take. Hopefully in a few years, but I would estimate probably four or five more years. It sucks, I know, but I have to be patient.

I hope you understand.

Yours sincerely, John Lang.

Did or didn't

I wonder about the fact that the first and only "ghost" I saw was Anna. I can't figure out if that's really what I saw, a ghost, and then adapted her looks on my imaginary friend. Or if that means I'm just a little schizo? Well, that might be the wrong word here, since I think it's closer to DID, but whatever. I remember thinking I had Schizophrenia when I was twelve, and then googling it, but it didn't add up. Around that time I snapped at people mixing up Schizophrenia with Dissociative Identity Disorder, or Multiple Personality Disorder. And shocking them saying I might have it, just for fun. I realised later most teenagers don't keep track of those sorts of things. Hey, most adults don't either! Sometimes I go to internet forums like "We DID it" (which is an awesome name by the way!) just to see if I'm even sniffing in the right field. I'm not so desperate to know anymore, just curious, and it's a rather interesting condition too.

I'm also thinking of changing a main character in a book that I'm writing (though I've been taking time off it for a while, just because my characters were too dull to get the story moving), so that he will have DID, but if I'm gonna do that I have to know what the fuck I'm writing about first. I hate reading about fiction characters in books, or seeing in movies, with mental disorders that doesn't add up! It would be utterly embarrasing to make such a mistake when I'm so damn interested in psychiatry!

I'll have to deal with my own DID symptoms after I'm done changing my body to look more male and only have to worry about getting testosterone, but by then I'll be legally male and sterile so they'll just have to suck it up and give me hormones. Even if they'd think they messed up letting me go the whole FTM journey medically due to a little mental disorder making me think I have a girl living inside my head. Yeah, I'm planning on getting sterilised in the future, for various reasons. One is that I'd probably be the worst parent ever since the 19th century, another is that I want to have bottom surgery. Yeah, yeah I know hysterectomy itself is bottom surgery, but you know what I mean, right?

Then I can go babbling about Anna with various shrinks, if I haven't managed to kill her all on my own by then, that is.

Me: ...just say yes.
Anna: Are you asking me to marry you?
Me: Maybe I'm asking for a divorce.