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.