I dreamed that I was dying from cancer, and as usually this dream too was pretty realistic. I didn't know what kind I had, but I was at the last stage or what to say, so it probably was that "allover the body" kinda cancer. Everyone were always visiting me and they thought that I could die at any moment. I on the other hand, thought I'd come out of it and start living my life again. Then I got a very high fever, so I probably died anyway. I woke up before I got to the end of the dream. Too bad, I wanted to know if I did die or not.
I like it when I die in dreams, especially when it's realistic. It's special in a way, maybe because there's that myth about "if you die in a dream, you die in real life". Which is of course totally bogus, unless I'm actually dead then. I've died in a lot of dreams. From sickness, suicide, murder, freak accidents and what more. Some have been painful and others I didn't feel at all.
I've had cancer in dreams before, or at least one more. I wonder just why that is so popular in my subconscious mind. I guess it could be my feelings of helplessness and hopelessness. The thing is though, that the dream sort of took place in present time, cause I remember thinking: could I still do the surgery? Erhm, no. You don't get that kind of surgery in that advanced state of cancer. So it's gotta reflect something that's going on now.
I remember thinking, in the dream, that there's so much I wanna do before I die, but the thing is I don't know what that is. Not really. Sure I have dreams and goals, but do I really value them? Right now, right here, I mean. If I was supposed to die today (which I'm not, just to be clear, cause I still really want that surgery and it's really not gonna happen if I'm dead, okay?) would I get that feeling that I'm not done with my life? Or rather just be pleased that it's all finally over?
Yeah, I know I dwell too much in how to interpret my nightly dreams. It's like they speak their own language and I just have to encrypt them. Just have to know what they mean. Especially the ones that recur. Because they're trying to give me a message, and I believe they won't stop until I get it. I don't wanna keep dreaming about getting cancer, it's revolting, to be perfectly honest.
Wednesday, 26 February 2014
Tuesday, 25 February 2014
Dysphoria
I'm making tail space when I sit on chairs, I've noticed lately. You know, leaving a gap between my lower back and the back support. So I put on my fake (obviously) tail just to prove my point, and sure as hell, that's exactly what that gap was for.
Phantom limbs doesn't have to be missing human body parts, though I doubt I will walk around in public with a fake tail made from silk-like fabric and pillow filling material like some sort of prosthesis. I know some otherkin do, but I don't know... maybe it's cute on a teenage girl, but it sure would look a little funny on me. I've thought about it, but then people would stare and have opinions, so I don't think I'll actually do it. Alone at home sometimes, sure, but that's an entirely different matter.
I've been meaning to finish making my horns as well, but I'm stuck on trying to figure out how to fasten them on my head. I can't make authentic wings though, cause they would be about the size of my whole body (each wing) and that is just too much to make and to wear.
I don't mean to say that I'm not human, cause I know that I am. It's more that I so strongly identify with demons, they feel like family on a very deep level. I was one in both of my two past lives (that's as far as I can remember), it lies embedded in my soul. Imbued with it. I don't remember being anything else than a demon. I'm so used to it, and there's so much I miss about it. Maybe it's a delusion, but if it is then I am nothing. Cause I cannot exist if I am built without a foundation. Maybe that too is a delusion, that I think I don't really exist, sometimes. A delusion build on a delusion... interesting. Impossible, likely, possible, probably? How will I ever know?
However the case, I have a dysphoria. Gender and species dysphoria and both are clawing inside me today. Ripping and tearing and screaming, like a wild animal in a cage. I get no rest at all. There's something else too, but I hush it before the words reach my lips, or in this case before my fingers reach the keyboard. I'm afraid, but I can't tell you of what. That fear is both painful and exciting. I guess you might already know what it's about though.
I should go to bed, but I haven't even taken my sleeping pills yet. I slipped them when my mother called to make sure I got my whole cocktail of drugs swallowed down around ten o'clock this evening. Saved them "until later", sort of. Maybe now is later.
Phantom limbs doesn't have to be missing human body parts, though I doubt I will walk around in public with a fake tail made from silk-like fabric and pillow filling material like some sort of prosthesis. I know some otherkin do, but I don't know... maybe it's cute on a teenage girl, but it sure would look a little funny on me. I've thought about it, but then people would stare and have opinions, so I don't think I'll actually do it. Alone at home sometimes, sure, but that's an entirely different matter.
I've been meaning to finish making my horns as well, but I'm stuck on trying to figure out how to fasten them on my head. I can't make authentic wings though, cause they would be about the size of my whole body (each wing) and that is just too much to make and to wear.
I don't mean to say that I'm not human, cause I know that I am. It's more that I so strongly identify with demons, they feel like family on a very deep level. I was one in both of my two past lives (that's as far as I can remember), it lies embedded in my soul. Imbued with it. I don't remember being anything else than a demon. I'm so used to it, and there's so much I miss about it. Maybe it's a delusion, but if it is then I am nothing. Cause I cannot exist if I am built without a foundation. Maybe that too is a delusion, that I think I don't really exist, sometimes. A delusion build on a delusion... interesting. Impossible, likely, possible, probably? How will I ever know?
However the case, I have a dysphoria. Gender and species dysphoria and both are clawing inside me today. Ripping and tearing and screaming, like a wild animal in a cage. I get no rest at all. There's something else too, but I hush it before the words reach my lips, or in this case before my fingers reach the keyboard. I'm afraid, but I can't tell you of what. That fear is both painful and exciting. I guess you might already know what it's about though.
I should go to bed, but I haven't even taken my sleeping pills yet. I slipped them when my mother called to make sure I got my whole cocktail of drugs swallowed down around ten o'clock this evening. Saved them "until later", sort of. Maybe now is later.
In another language
Obsessive love, you've got me on my knees. I know I'm not the only one feeling like this for someone else, but why do I keep lying to my family? I want to keep everyone at a distance. Far enough to not touch my heart, but close enough for them to see me. Knowing that I'm still there, but a part of me isn't. Sure I talk about how I'm doing, but I leave stuff out, like the most important stuff. I talk about anxiety when love kills me, I talk about tiredness when I'm lethargic or filled with sorrow. I let people see the surface, but not what is going on underneath. I tell them what they already see.
Maybe love would drive me insane if I wasn't already crazy. If only I could find someone else who is also feeling like this or has before. Preferably before, and how they got out of it. What I did wasn't exactly a good advice to give anyone except possibly an enemy or two. Cause suicide seems to do the trick, and surviving an attempt did it for me. I could really use some good advice from someone who's been in my shoes. What to do when love suffocates you, when the best feeling in the world is slowly killing you?
I'm watching the Buffy series again, and thinking I'm much like how Spike was in the last 2-3 seasons. What did he do for the way he felt? He died for her, he fucking died for her. Sorry for spoilers, but it just feels important to say that. I'm crying again, and I cannot stop for the feelings remain. I've carried this for almost nine months now and I just don't know what to do.
I can't let go of him, I can't. I've tried and I'm not gonna try again, cause I don't think I would survive it. I think about him not just every day, but every night, every hour, every damned minute. I think about him when I write about other stuff, when I play WoW, when I watch a tv-show or a movie that doesn't even depict love, when I embroider or do my laundry. All. The. Time.
Some times I don't really notice it, other times it's overwhelming. Gradually increases or decreases. It's become a routine, a habit, something that just is, following me like a shadow, or sweeps by like the wind. And it's constantly blowing on this island, so it's not a bad comparison. Exactly what I think is for me alone, too private to tell anyone. You don't wanna hear it anyway.
It's not just the thoughts you know, or waking up from a dreams about him, or missing him painfully much thirty times a day, or the picture I can't stop staring it, or the poems about him that I can't stop writing; it's the feelings. The feelings that words cannot describe. They're like a silent scream and a gentle hug at the same time. Speaking their own language that I cannot translate, but I do understand it. Oh damn, I understand it.
The tiredness of today has made me more sensitive than usual these days. It's like I'm about to collapse every minute, but I don't. Both physically and mentally, literally and figuratively. I'm on the verge of crashing, but I hold my breath, stop and start again. Pretend that I'm smoking: holding my breath for a few seconds before breathing again. An unusual way of smoking, or so I've heard. Breathing out slowly before I take my next breath. God, I miss smoking. But not as much as I miss him.
It's clawing inside me, like anxiety, but more around and in my heart than the rest of me like anxiety does. More searing and raw. Why do we feel love in our hearts? Cause it's more in the brain really, and for some of us it's in the soul. And where is the soul? I don't know, and I think no one really does. I think it's a bit like the aura though, or maybe the aura is the soul? It would make sense somehow. The way every aura has its own colour, or combination of colours, like it's our personalities in a way. I love the way auras look. Like the northern lights, or an amazing sunset. It's really something. You should see them too, and if you can't, I wish that you could.
I got off track again, but I'd rather think about auras right now. And just like that, I'm back to thinking about him again. Or rather, the thoughts flowed back to the surface again, they were just hiding in a lower layer.
Maybe love would drive me insane if I wasn't already crazy. If only I could find someone else who is also feeling like this or has before. Preferably before, and how they got out of it. What I did wasn't exactly a good advice to give anyone except possibly an enemy or two. Cause suicide seems to do the trick, and surviving an attempt did it for me. I could really use some good advice from someone who's been in my shoes. What to do when love suffocates you, when the best feeling in the world is slowly killing you?
I'm watching the Buffy series again, and thinking I'm much like how Spike was in the last 2-3 seasons. What did he do for the way he felt? He died for her, he fucking died for her. Sorry for spoilers, but it just feels important to say that. I'm crying again, and I cannot stop for the feelings remain. I've carried this for almost nine months now and I just don't know what to do.
I can't let go of him, I can't. I've tried and I'm not gonna try again, cause I don't think I would survive it. I think about him not just every day, but every night, every hour, every damned minute. I think about him when I write about other stuff, when I play WoW, when I watch a tv-show or a movie that doesn't even depict love, when I embroider or do my laundry. All. The. Time.
Some times I don't really notice it, other times it's overwhelming. Gradually increases or decreases. It's become a routine, a habit, something that just is, following me like a shadow, or sweeps by like the wind. And it's constantly blowing on this island, so it's not a bad comparison. Exactly what I think is for me alone, too private to tell anyone. You don't wanna hear it anyway.
It's not just the thoughts you know, or waking up from a dreams about him, or missing him painfully much thirty times a day, or the picture I can't stop staring it, or the poems about him that I can't stop writing; it's the feelings. The feelings that words cannot describe. They're like a silent scream and a gentle hug at the same time. Speaking their own language that I cannot translate, but I do understand it. Oh damn, I understand it.
The tiredness of today has made me more sensitive than usual these days. It's like I'm about to collapse every minute, but I don't. Both physically and mentally, literally and figuratively. I'm on the verge of crashing, but I hold my breath, stop and start again. Pretend that I'm smoking: holding my breath for a few seconds before breathing again. An unusual way of smoking, or so I've heard. Breathing out slowly before I take my next breath. God, I miss smoking. But not as much as I miss him.
It's clawing inside me, like anxiety, but more around and in my heart than the rest of me like anxiety does. More searing and raw. Why do we feel love in our hearts? Cause it's more in the brain really, and for some of us it's in the soul. And where is the soul? I don't know, and I think no one really does. I think it's a bit like the aura though, or maybe the aura is the soul? It would make sense somehow. The way every aura has its own colour, or combination of colours, like it's our personalities in a way. I love the way auras look. Like the northern lights, or an amazing sunset. It's really something. You should see them too, and if you can't, I wish that you could.
I got off track again, but I'd rather think about auras right now. And just like that, I'm back to thinking about him again. Or rather, the thoughts flowed back to the surface again, they were just hiding in a lower layer.
Monday, 24 February 2014
That kind of day
Oh, it's that kind of day... when it's as if I get anxiety over breathing. I woke up with anxiety, and it just won't go away. Woke up several times feeling like shit, so I went back to sleep, hoping it would pass, but it was still there next time I woke up. At late afternoon I finally got up, more tired than ever. I stumbled through my bedroom all the way to the computer, covering my light sensitive eyes with my hands. I had to hold on to the walls to not trip over my own feet. Only one word was on my lips: coffee.
And then I got company. One of the crew came over and asked if she could stay here a little while, and I said "if you have to" and went on with making my breakfast, more or less ignoring the other person standing in my hallway. Oh well, she seemed alright, I suppose.
I knew she came to check on me, so I did my best to not do anything different than normally. Except that I ate my breakfast in the kitchen instead of sitting down by the computer and blasting loud music in my head phones. I figured that could be considered a bit rude.
My patience is wearing thin. There's something wrong with the dryer in the laundry room, and after two hours of trying to get my clothes dry, I gave up. I can't put them up anywhere in my apartment. I have too much stuff and there just isn't any room. Fuck this shit, was my final statement and let the damn clothes lie there in their bags. To dry or to mould, I just don't care. Not today.
At least I got my sewing threads, finally. Had to wait the whole weekend cause of the lack of opening hours. Sure Ica might have had white, but I highly doubt they have light grey, light blue and dark green as well. I need more WoW and to embroider more. I get so bored with writing now, even when I have something to say. You know the best thing about writing? You get to say everything you want without anyone interrupting you.
And then I got company. One of the crew came over and asked if she could stay here a little while, and I said "if you have to" and went on with making my breakfast, more or less ignoring the other person standing in my hallway. Oh well, she seemed alright, I suppose.
I knew she came to check on me, so I did my best to not do anything different than normally. Except that I ate my breakfast in the kitchen instead of sitting down by the computer and blasting loud music in my head phones. I figured that could be considered a bit rude.
My patience is wearing thin. There's something wrong with the dryer in the laundry room, and after two hours of trying to get my clothes dry, I gave up. I can't put them up anywhere in my apartment. I have too much stuff and there just isn't any room. Fuck this shit, was my final statement and let the damn clothes lie there in their bags. To dry or to mould, I just don't care. Not today.
At least I got my sewing threads, finally. Had to wait the whole weekend cause of the lack of opening hours. Sure Ica might have had white, but I highly doubt they have light grey, light blue and dark green as well. I need more WoW and to embroider more. I get so bored with writing now, even when I have something to say. You know the best thing about writing? You get to say everything you want without anyone interrupting you.
Sunday, 23 February 2014
Mourning
I noticed my love poems are getting more sad one by one. If love turns into heartbreak, is it still love? I'm asking mainly because I don't know how to categorise my poems. Some of them could be put in various folders, but I want everyone of them that are even remotely implying being in love should end up in the "love" folder. Cause I got "damaged" too, and an uncategorised folder for those really tricky ones.
Now I feel sad. Been watching that "dead like me" show for almost half the first season and it's been quite cheerful, or well, humorous so far... but this latest one called "The bicycle thief" was really tear jerking. And I just suddenly reckoned that every time a person dies in the show the "light" they see when crossing over is something that speaks to them, you know, something special just to them. So I was thinking, what would I see? Sorry if I'm not making any sense here, it's hard to explain.
When I die, and cross over from this life to whatever comes next, what will be the light at the end of the tunnel, what will I see? I instantly thought of Dala, the city of colours. I remember it so vividly, and when I thought about it, I really did cry. For the first time in weeks now. It was like I wasn't used to crying and I just wanted it to stop. I don't know why I reacted that way. I just don't want to think about my death any more today.
It's stupid really, but I feel as though I've been mourning my own death for a long time now. Ever since I got that vision. That was a terrible thing really. I mean who the hell decided a 15 year old should get a vision of their own death? It wasn't very detailed though, but still.
I just saw my future self lying dead in a white room, or wherever. Like a painting without a background. Like I was staring down on my corpse from above. Then I just knew that I was gonna die when I was still young and the numbers "19-21" showed up. Oh damn... maybe that is my estimated time of death? Like on a watch, I mean. 19:21.
Makes me think of the Tim Burton movie "Big Fish" and the boys look into the witch's eye and see how they are going to die. It's a bit funny, cause when I first saw that movie I thought I'd want to see my own death as well, forgetting that I already had. Or rather wanting to forget that I already had. I wanted something else instead. Perhaps I wanted to see myself as an old man with white hair, happy to finally have made something out of his life. But I didn't see that, and I know in my heart that I'm never gonna grow old like that.
Isn't it sad in way, that I am one of very few young people that I know of who wouldn't mind getting old at all, and I'm convinced I will never get that far?
The sun is coming up. I couldn't sleep tonight, so I stayed up writing instead. And feeling like shit, obviously. I felt restless, as if there's something crawling inside me that needed to get out. Emotions, and words. I wonder if it at all helped. I'm fumbling for my cigarettes and then I remember. Damn.
Now I feel sad. Been watching that "dead like me" show for almost half the first season and it's been quite cheerful, or well, humorous so far... but this latest one called "The bicycle thief" was really tear jerking. And I just suddenly reckoned that every time a person dies in the show the "light" they see when crossing over is something that speaks to them, you know, something special just to them. So I was thinking, what would I see? Sorry if I'm not making any sense here, it's hard to explain.
When I die, and cross over from this life to whatever comes next, what will be the light at the end of the tunnel, what will I see? I instantly thought of Dala, the city of colours. I remember it so vividly, and when I thought about it, I really did cry. For the first time in weeks now. It was like I wasn't used to crying and I just wanted it to stop. I don't know why I reacted that way. I just don't want to think about my death any more today.
It's stupid really, but I feel as though I've been mourning my own death for a long time now. Ever since I got that vision. That was a terrible thing really. I mean who the hell decided a 15 year old should get a vision of their own death? It wasn't very detailed though, but still.
I just saw my future self lying dead in a white room, or wherever. Like a painting without a background. Like I was staring down on my corpse from above. Then I just knew that I was gonna die when I was still young and the numbers "19-21" showed up. Oh damn... maybe that is my estimated time of death? Like on a watch, I mean. 19:21.
Makes me think of the Tim Burton movie "Big Fish" and the boys look into the witch's eye and see how they are going to die. It's a bit funny, cause when I first saw that movie I thought I'd want to see my own death as well, forgetting that I already had. Or rather wanting to forget that I already had. I wanted something else instead. Perhaps I wanted to see myself as an old man with white hair, happy to finally have made something out of his life. But I didn't see that, and I know in my heart that I'm never gonna grow old like that.
Isn't it sad in way, that I am one of very few young people that I know of who wouldn't mind getting old at all, and I'm convinced I will never get that far?
The sun is coming up. I couldn't sleep tonight, so I stayed up writing instead. And feeling like shit, obviously. I felt restless, as if there's something crawling inside me that needed to get out. Emotions, and words. I wonder if it at all helped. I'm fumbling for my cigarettes and then I remember. Damn.
Wake up, society!
I started writing about something else when I came up with this text, so if the beginning here looks a little weird, that is probably why. I'm not even trying to make this text simple and easy to read, you just have to try to tag along with my fairly complicated and just a tad bit too long sentences. You should appreciate it that I for once write from my heart.
I can recite my whole life from my first memory when I was two years old the very first summer I had when me and my parents moved to Alunda in 1991, up until this day. Cause I did, you know, in my autobiography, and it's all there. Or almost all of it, it's not quite finished yet.
The one book I will leave behind me the day I die. Yes, that is my plan. To write it, polish it and finish it, print it out, but leave it here on my desk safe and sound, until that day comes. Cause I will reveal way too much that I don't want anyone to know until I'm not around here anymore. It will also be my final say, my suicide note.
Not to be like that, but that book would most likely make me kinda famous, if I'd be alive to see it or if it get published after my death, or published at all that is. It will be one of a kind, I can assure you. The life of a young man who lived for a whole lifetime and experienced so much, but still somehow managed it. It's tragic, cause I really wanted that book to inspire people who also have a shitty life, a message to them that you can get through life even though you are miserable and have all the reasons to "justify" a suicide. It's tragic, because at the end of the book, I will actually have died from suicide.
I don't want to be famous, you know, at least not for all those stupid reasons today's youth seek fame. But if I would want to to become famous, it would be for that I inspire people to cherish life, seek wisdom and don't give a damn fuck what other people think you should do with your life. To inspire people to not give up on their seemingly impossible dreams even when your loved ones tell you to get real and grow up cause you're supposed to be a "valuable member of society".
Well, let me tell you this: you don't own society anything! You didn't ask to be born, you're not a slave to man made rules, you haven't signed any contract with your own blood. You were born to be you, to make your life valuable to you and no one else, and to survive at the best of your ability.
Now I doubt these words will at all help, and I know there are a lot of people out there who don't agree with me about said words and all of what I will be writing from here on in this entry. It's all about "get an education, grown up, get a job, fold your laundry, grow up, move out and did I mention grow up?!" nowadays. It's sad, it truly is.
I think about slavery. Harsch, perhaps, but that is the way society is going, in case you haven't noticed. Today's youth come off as lazy, despondent and that their lives are practically meaningless unless they take up that mop and clean the damn floors already or they won't get food on their tables. See what I mean?
I realise, cause I'm not that daft, that society is ruled by money and independence above all else. Being dependent is being a burden, living on social welfare is basically stealing other people's tax money, and crashing on your parents sofa until you're 35 isn't very productive - but just hear me out, okay? Complaining about having to abide to society's structured "rules" isn't about being lazy.
I'm walking on that thin line between being mentally disabled and just a lazy brat, but I'm not blind or stupid enough to not realise that I am privileged cause I don't need a job or pay for my own flat. What I want is for everyone, not just young people, to stop shoving it into your own and other peoples faces that you are useless in society. You don't have to be a good citizen for your life to matter.
I'm quite a heavy burden for this society. I live on your tax money, so indirectly it's YOU who pay for my rent, my clothes, food and cigarettes. I can't really afford much else cause the payment I get is minimum wage. I take a lot of prescription drugs, and the state pays for most of it (cause högkostnadsskydd, you know) and the same with almost all of my psychiatric hospital visits. If that wasn't enough I live under LSS as you all know, which means that I have people who have it as their job to do my dishes and help me clean up my mess. Literally.
But do I feel guilty? Hardly. Do you know why? Because it is my right as a member of society to get the help that I need in order to survive. The privilege, is that I'm sick enough to get that help, but others who also suffer might not be, and they die because society won't help them.
People who have had the guts to confront me about my way of living (most just give a friendly pat on my shoulder and tell me not to worry, it's gonna work out in the end for me as well, but I appreciate it when people are honest with me, so don't take this wrong) have asked me what I really want to do with my life. I don't quite understand that question, to be perfectly honest. I'm not halfway anywhere, I'm doing all that I can and sometimes more when I have the strength to. I've survived numerous of suicide attempts, mental torment and a disabling headache for a decade, I can just barely stay above the surface most days, but I still try my best to pursue my long term goals and dreams.
People seem to just assume that I want a job like I'm supposed to. Make my own money the way I'm supposed to. And what if I don't want that? It doesn't matter how damn drunk you are if you ask a person that sort of question, you should fucking respect an honest answer: no I don't, and you can't argue with that. I don't want to work for money, because doing some shit job where someone tells me what to do, just to get a pay check at the end of the month, just isn't my cup of tea.
If I would ever have a job, it would be something that I enjoy. I don't mean a paid full-time vacation, I mean an actual profession that doesn't make you long for Fridays and hate Mondays. Now, I don't technically need a job of any kind, but that's beside the point. It truly is, because the message I want to get out is this: if you can avoid the responsibilities society has handed out for you, fucking do it.
Maybe you don't want to be role model of the year, famous or even the slightest bit of a rebel, but not wanting to be a part of this slavery doesn't make you lazy. That, is what truly makes you an individual. To be able to step aside and take another road to the same goal we are all aiming for: to be happy.
I wish someone could actually listen to me, when I say you don't have to flip burgers in order to survive, there are other options. There truly are. Just open your eyes and see that there is a whole world in front of you.
I can recite my whole life from my first memory when I was two years old the very first summer I had when me and my parents moved to Alunda in 1991, up until this day. Cause I did, you know, in my autobiography, and it's all there. Or almost all of it, it's not quite finished yet.
The one book I will leave behind me the day I die. Yes, that is my plan. To write it, polish it and finish it, print it out, but leave it here on my desk safe and sound, until that day comes. Cause I will reveal way too much that I don't want anyone to know until I'm not around here anymore. It will also be my final say, my suicide note.
Not to be like that, but that book would most likely make me kinda famous, if I'd be alive to see it or if it get published after my death, or published at all that is. It will be one of a kind, I can assure you. The life of a young man who lived for a whole lifetime and experienced so much, but still somehow managed it. It's tragic, cause I really wanted that book to inspire people who also have a shitty life, a message to them that you can get through life even though you are miserable and have all the reasons to "justify" a suicide. It's tragic, because at the end of the book, I will actually have died from suicide.
I don't want to be famous, you know, at least not for all those stupid reasons today's youth seek fame. But if I would want to to become famous, it would be for that I inspire people to cherish life, seek wisdom and don't give a damn fuck what other people think you should do with your life. To inspire people to not give up on their seemingly impossible dreams even when your loved ones tell you to get real and grow up cause you're supposed to be a "valuable member of society".
Well, let me tell you this: you don't own society anything! You didn't ask to be born, you're not a slave to man made rules, you haven't signed any contract with your own blood. You were born to be you, to make your life valuable to you and no one else, and to survive at the best of your ability.
Now I doubt these words will at all help, and I know there are a lot of people out there who don't agree with me about said words and all of what I will be writing from here on in this entry. It's all about "get an education, grown up, get a job, fold your laundry, grow up, move out and did I mention grow up?!" nowadays. It's sad, it truly is.
I think about slavery. Harsch, perhaps, but that is the way society is going, in case you haven't noticed. Today's youth come off as lazy, despondent and that their lives are practically meaningless unless they take up that mop and clean the damn floors already or they won't get food on their tables. See what I mean?
I realise, cause I'm not that daft, that society is ruled by money and independence above all else. Being dependent is being a burden, living on social welfare is basically stealing other people's tax money, and crashing on your parents sofa until you're 35 isn't very productive - but just hear me out, okay? Complaining about having to abide to society's structured "rules" isn't about being lazy.
I'm walking on that thin line between being mentally disabled and just a lazy brat, but I'm not blind or stupid enough to not realise that I am privileged cause I don't need a job or pay for my own flat. What I want is for everyone, not just young people, to stop shoving it into your own and other peoples faces that you are useless in society. You don't have to be a good citizen for your life to matter.
I'm quite a heavy burden for this society. I live on your tax money, so indirectly it's YOU who pay for my rent, my clothes, food and cigarettes. I can't really afford much else cause the payment I get is minimum wage. I take a lot of prescription drugs, and the state pays for most of it (cause högkostnadsskydd, you know) and the same with almost all of my psychiatric hospital visits. If that wasn't enough I live under LSS as you all know, which means that I have people who have it as their job to do my dishes and help me clean up my mess. Literally.
But do I feel guilty? Hardly. Do you know why? Because it is my right as a member of society to get the help that I need in order to survive. The privilege, is that I'm sick enough to get that help, but others who also suffer might not be, and they die because society won't help them.
People who have had the guts to confront me about my way of living (most just give a friendly pat on my shoulder and tell me not to worry, it's gonna work out in the end for me as well, but I appreciate it when people are honest with me, so don't take this wrong) have asked me what I really want to do with my life. I don't quite understand that question, to be perfectly honest. I'm not halfway anywhere, I'm doing all that I can and sometimes more when I have the strength to. I've survived numerous of suicide attempts, mental torment and a disabling headache for a decade, I can just barely stay above the surface most days, but I still try my best to pursue my long term goals and dreams.
People seem to just assume that I want a job like I'm supposed to. Make my own money the way I'm supposed to. And what if I don't want that? It doesn't matter how damn drunk you are if you ask a person that sort of question, you should fucking respect an honest answer: no I don't, and you can't argue with that. I don't want to work for money, because doing some shit job where someone tells me what to do, just to get a pay check at the end of the month, just isn't my cup of tea.
If I would ever have a job, it would be something that I enjoy. I don't mean a paid full-time vacation, I mean an actual profession that doesn't make you long for Fridays and hate Mondays. Now, I don't technically need a job of any kind, but that's beside the point. It truly is, because the message I want to get out is this: if you can avoid the responsibilities society has handed out for you, fucking do it.
Maybe you don't want to be role model of the year, famous or even the slightest bit of a rebel, but not wanting to be a part of this slavery doesn't make you lazy. That, is what truly makes you an individual. To be able to step aside and take another road to the same goal we are all aiming for: to be happy.
I wish someone could actually listen to me, when I say you don't have to flip burgers in order to survive, there are other options. There truly are. Just open your eyes and see that there is a whole world in front of you.
Repetition
I don't hate myself so much today, and that's a good thing. I don't particularly like myself either though. It's that kind of day when nothing seems to matter, it's all meaningless. Not enough to give up, but enough to not value anything. To not appreciate anything. It's like my biggest dream could come true and I wouldn't care. Like the world could literally be blown apart and I'd sit here as a ghost and just say "whatever" with a despondent sigh.
So it doesn't matter whether I hate myself or not. How good or not my embroidery is going, how tedious the quests are in WoW, how annoying the characters in the tv-show are. In case you're wondering, the series I'm watching is called "Dead like me" and it's about a girl (she's 18) who dies and becomes a grim reaper, and that's what she does in her undead life through the whole series of episodes. I've watched it before, or at least I gave it a try a few years, or a lot of years, back. I thought I'd give it another chance, though I don't remember how I got reminded of it.
I recognise actors in it, like a lot. Jason Gideon from "Criminal Minds" and Doyle from "Angel" and even J.J. also from "Criminal Minds" shows up as a guest star in one episode. And then there are a few that I can't place.
So that's what I do, trying to figure out from where I recognise the actors in a tv-show. Enjoying WoW for a few minutes before it bores me and I watch another episode instead. Go back to WoW and then I get bored again. Embroider while I watch the series. Listen to music while I play WoW. Getting repetitive? Oh yeah, definitely.
So it doesn't matter whether I hate myself or not. How good or not my embroidery is going, how tedious the quests are in WoW, how annoying the characters in the tv-show are. In case you're wondering, the series I'm watching is called "Dead like me" and it's about a girl (she's 18) who dies and becomes a grim reaper, and that's what she does in her undead life through the whole series of episodes. I've watched it before, or at least I gave it a try a few years, or a lot of years, back. I thought I'd give it another chance, though I don't remember how I got reminded of it.
I recognise actors in it, like a lot. Jason Gideon from "Criminal Minds" and Doyle from "Angel" and even J.J. also from "Criminal Minds" shows up as a guest star in one episode. And then there are a few that I can't place.
So that's what I do, trying to figure out from where I recognise the actors in a tv-show. Enjoying WoW for a few minutes before it bores me and I watch another episode instead. Go back to WoW and then I get bored again. Embroider while I watch the series. Listen to music while I play WoW. Getting repetitive? Oh yeah, definitely.
Saturday, 22 February 2014
How to fight tiredness
My eyes don't seem to work as intended today, they're out of focus. I go blind for a second at a time, or it just gets really blurry, like I lose control for a moment before I'm able to focus again. It's annoying when I try to embroider or play WoW, cause it makes me stick the needle in my fingers or run into the wrong monsters in the game.
My eyes do that sometimes, not really anything to worry about. I'm just tired and can't balance out my nicotine and caffeine intake. And my circadian rhythm is still fucked up, which is probably why I'm so tired to begin with, and then I'm masking the tiredness with too much coffee. I have a lot of reasons to be unreasonably tired these days.
When you try to create a balance by just adding more and more it tends to get more unbalanced instead. Like sawing off the legs of a table to make it steady, until there's nothing left of the table, kinda thing. The same way I'm adding nicotine to calm me down or caffeine to make me more alert and just keep on adding. And in the end it will just mess me up even more.
I just want this day to not be completely meaningless. I'm tired all the time, and I want to smoke all the time. A day when something actually happens is a bad day filled with anxiety, sadness and anger, and the other days are just plain boring. But what I want I cannot have, so I don't even dare wanting it. Don't even bother hoping for it. At least not out loud, never out loud.
I wouldn't consider today a bad day per definition, but it's not good either. It's lukewarm, by my standards, by which I mean it's pretty dull. Mild to moderate anxiety that comes in waves, a little inspiration to embroider but not enough to get me hooked, found a tv-show yesterday (or rather re-found it) that I sort of enjoy watching. But playing WoW is going slow, I lack motivation and my mind wanders a lot.
Seems I can't really focus on anything today, not even my thoughts. I can't even remember what I've been thinking about, and obviously it wasn't worth writing down either. Just the same old shit I suppose.
Been bickering with Anna quite a lot though, she's annoying and I'm annoying her. Neither of us can think of anything innovative to say, so we just keep repeating each other's sentences. It's tiresome, but neither of us can shut up, so we just have to agree to disagree as always. Cause how can you shut off your own thoughts, let alone someone else's?
My eyes do that sometimes, not really anything to worry about. I'm just tired and can't balance out my nicotine and caffeine intake. And my circadian rhythm is still fucked up, which is probably why I'm so tired to begin with, and then I'm masking the tiredness with too much coffee. I have a lot of reasons to be unreasonably tired these days.
When you try to create a balance by just adding more and more it tends to get more unbalanced instead. Like sawing off the legs of a table to make it steady, until there's nothing left of the table, kinda thing. The same way I'm adding nicotine to calm me down or caffeine to make me more alert and just keep on adding. And in the end it will just mess me up even more.
I just want this day to not be completely meaningless. I'm tired all the time, and I want to smoke all the time. A day when something actually happens is a bad day filled with anxiety, sadness and anger, and the other days are just plain boring. But what I want I cannot have, so I don't even dare wanting it. Don't even bother hoping for it. At least not out loud, never out loud.
I wouldn't consider today a bad day per definition, but it's not good either. It's lukewarm, by my standards, by which I mean it's pretty dull. Mild to moderate anxiety that comes in waves, a little inspiration to embroider but not enough to get me hooked, found a tv-show yesterday (or rather re-found it) that I sort of enjoy watching. But playing WoW is going slow, I lack motivation and my mind wanders a lot.
Seems I can't really focus on anything today, not even my thoughts. I can't even remember what I've been thinking about, and obviously it wasn't worth writing down either. Just the same old shit I suppose.
Been bickering with Anna quite a lot though, she's annoying and I'm annoying her. Neither of us can think of anything innovative to say, so we just keep repeating each other's sentences. It's tiresome, but neither of us can shut up, so we just have to agree to disagree as always. Cause how can you shut off your own thoughts, let alone someone else's?
Looking back
Falling in love with fictional characters might not be so uncommon these days. Maybe it was back in 2005. But can a fictional character break someone's heart? I just thought of it, something reminded me of the first time I fell for an imaginary person. Someone I saw in a nightly dream, no one I knew or any other way recognised from reality. Human, I might add, since most other fictional characters I've felt that way for are/were not humans. Maybe that's what's so alluring about them.
Cause in reality all I have to choose from to date is humans. How limiting! There just aren't any other highly intelligent humanoids of the like in this existence, (and I say "highly intelligent" to rule out apes and other such beings. I really hate monkeys by the way, I think they're disgusting and stupid. They are the only animal that I genuinely dislike, they even rank below mosquitoes).
News about my hair project: I have now seen the result of my sixth round of bleaching. After freeing it from my braid I sure look like goldie locks. Yeah, it's golden on the lengths now, fading to yellow and then to white blonde towards the roots. Slow progress...
I feel as though I'm avoiding my love. Am I really avoiding him? Cause I can't stop thinking about him, now more than ever he fills my head to the brim with thoughts every hour, every minute. Even when I'm doing stuff like playing WoW or embroidering, listen to music or watching a tv-show episode. So why would I want to avoid him? I think that will only make it worse. The thoughts, the feelings.
Like trying to put out a fire with gasoline, or better yet: setting another place on fire and hoping that fire will put out the first one. Fight fire with fire. Cause it kinda feels like I'm just creating more fires and making matters worse. But I don't know what to say to him, or how to say it. What needs to be said, what I need to have settled. Not talking about me being in love with him and all, no this is something else. I actually do talk to him (well, chat) every so often without difficulty, so it's not about shyness or anything. What it is though, doesn't matter. I'll keep that to myself.
Cause in reality all I have to choose from to date is humans. How limiting! There just aren't any other highly intelligent humanoids of the like in this existence, (and I say "highly intelligent" to rule out apes and other such beings. I really hate monkeys by the way, I think they're disgusting and stupid. They are the only animal that I genuinely dislike, they even rank below mosquitoes).
News about my hair project: I have now seen the result of my sixth round of bleaching. After freeing it from my braid I sure look like goldie locks. Yeah, it's golden on the lengths now, fading to yellow and then to white blonde towards the roots. Slow progress...
I feel as though I'm avoiding my love. Am I really avoiding him? Cause I can't stop thinking about him, now more than ever he fills my head to the brim with thoughts every hour, every minute. Even when I'm doing stuff like playing WoW or embroidering, listen to music or watching a tv-show episode. So why would I want to avoid him? I think that will only make it worse. The thoughts, the feelings.
Like trying to put out a fire with gasoline, or better yet: setting another place on fire and hoping that fire will put out the first one. Fight fire with fire. Cause it kinda feels like I'm just creating more fires and making matters worse. But I don't know what to say to him, or how to say it. What needs to be said, what I need to have settled. Not talking about me being in love with him and all, no this is something else. I actually do talk to him (well, chat) every so often without difficulty, so it's not about shyness or anything. What it is though, doesn't matter. I'll keep that to myself.
Friday, 21 February 2014
Constant worry
I should be worrying about the right thing, but my brain just sort of picks its choice without my consent. I think that if I really have to worry about something, it should at least be something worth worrying about. I really should do something about that worry, before this anxiety just gets worse and worse. I know that when my stomach hurts and I start rocking myself on a daily basis, it's not a good thing.
Aside from that, there hasn't been much change these last few days. I've started on a new embroidery project again, which I thought was gonna be rather big considering the sketch I drew on a A3 sized paper, but when I calculated it the final result will barely be a quarter of that size. I need to buy more sewing thread in green, pink, grey and blue. I use a lot of shading effects with colours close to each other and blending them to create even closer shades. So when light grey combined with white is too dark, I have to get an even lighter shade of grey.
This is why I keep using normal sewing thread, cause then I have a lot more colours to choose from, than I would if I had used that special kind of embroidery yarn. For the piece I'm working on right now I use: four shades of beige for the skin tone, two green for the eyes, three grey/white for the hair and three red/pink for the lips. Altogether that is twelve different shades for a 10x20 cm artwork.
Overdoing it? Nah, I need to keep it interesting to not get bored by filling in large areas of the same colour. What else do I do? Well, yeah I'm still playing WoW, but not as much as before. I've probably gone from 12 hours a day to around 7 hours. Tried/trying to get highest possible reputation with all horde basic factions, but the blood elves "Silvermoon City" is just a damn pain in the ass, to be perfectly honest. I'm stuck halfway from revered to exalted, and there are no more quests to do. My only option is doing dungeons wearing their tabard.
The thing is that the higher level my character gets, the harder it is for me to do dungeons. At level 15-20 it's easy, I know the map and it's all pretty basic. I can do that with mild to moderate anxiety. Up at around levels 30 through 40 it's getting harder, more confusing and beyond the basics. I can do that with moderate to bad anxiety. Beyond level 60 it's hard, very confusing, I feel embarrassed, guilty, like I'm doing everything wrong and now we're talking really severe anxiety. IT'S JUST A GAME. Well, life is a game too.
Aside from that, there hasn't been much change these last few days. I've started on a new embroidery project again, which I thought was gonna be rather big considering the sketch I drew on a A3 sized paper, but when I calculated it the final result will barely be a quarter of that size. I need to buy more sewing thread in green, pink, grey and blue. I use a lot of shading effects with colours close to each other and blending them to create even closer shades. So when light grey combined with white is too dark, I have to get an even lighter shade of grey.
This is why I keep using normal sewing thread, cause then I have a lot more colours to choose from, than I would if I had used that special kind of embroidery yarn. For the piece I'm working on right now I use: four shades of beige for the skin tone, two green for the eyes, three grey/white for the hair and three red/pink for the lips. Altogether that is twelve different shades for a 10x20 cm artwork.
Overdoing it? Nah, I need to keep it interesting to not get bored by filling in large areas of the same colour. What else do I do? Well, yeah I'm still playing WoW, but not as much as before. I've probably gone from 12 hours a day to around 7 hours. Tried/trying to get highest possible reputation with all horde basic factions, but the blood elves "Silvermoon City" is just a damn pain in the ass, to be perfectly honest. I'm stuck halfway from revered to exalted, and there are no more quests to do. My only option is doing dungeons wearing their tabard.
The thing is that the higher level my character gets, the harder it is for me to do dungeons. At level 15-20 it's easy, I know the map and it's all pretty basic. I can do that with mild to moderate anxiety. Up at around levels 30 through 40 it's getting harder, more confusing and beyond the basics. I can do that with moderate to bad anxiety. Beyond level 60 it's hard, very confusing, I feel embarrassed, guilty, like I'm doing everything wrong and now we're talking really severe anxiety. IT'S JUST A GAME. Well, life is a game too.
Skin tight
I've always believed, but it still surprises me. I do this ritual thingy every day before I go to bed, to make my beard growth increase, beyond what the hormones can do. And now... I think it's actually working. Side effects: more acne, itching and slight skin irritation. I look at my hands for only a moment, trembling. The power in them, it makes the skin feel weird, as if it was the skin itself holding that power.
Only a small part of me can't understand how this can be real, though the most of me has always taken my magic powers for granted. I'm a demon warlock incarnate, what else can be expected? Yet, I'm still surprised. The natural laws here have bound me for so long, that this feels like break through. A small one, but still a break through.
What I would be able to do if this goes the way I want it to. Suddenly, a lot of opportunities open up, and I will be taking on bigger projects in changing the way I look. Not just hair and eyes and skin, but re-shaping my so very hated curves. I don't know if it could be possible, I don't know just how much power I have. It will certainly be worth a try or two though, in the future. I don't wanna get drained, since it's kinda a bad time for that, with the up coming surgery and stuff. Shit, I'm seriously vain...
But will I make people believe in me? Perhaps a little demonstration to prove them wrong? Uh-uh, not gonna happen. I don't even talk about it, I might have just mentioned it briefly at one point or another, but I definitely don't brag or show off. That's not what I want. But if this really will work and have the outcome I plan for it, it will be obvious.
Oh, and sixth round of bleaching my hair, by the way. Will post pictures later, along with pictures from my fifth round that I did a couple of weeks ago, but never made it to the internet.
Only a small part of me can't understand how this can be real, though the most of me has always taken my magic powers for granted. I'm a demon warlock incarnate, what else can be expected? Yet, I'm still surprised. The natural laws here have bound me for so long, that this feels like break through. A small one, but still a break through.
What I would be able to do if this goes the way I want it to. Suddenly, a lot of opportunities open up, and I will be taking on bigger projects in changing the way I look. Not just hair and eyes and skin, but re-shaping my so very hated curves. I don't know if it could be possible, I don't know just how much power I have. It will certainly be worth a try or two though, in the future. I don't wanna get drained, since it's kinda a bad time for that, with the up coming surgery and stuff. Shit, I'm seriously vain...
But will I make people believe in me? Perhaps a little demonstration to prove them wrong? Uh-uh, not gonna happen. I don't even talk about it, I might have just mentioned it briefly at one point or another, but I definitely don't brag or show off. That's not what I want. But if this really will work and have the outcome I plan for it, it will be obvious.
Oh, and sixth round of bleaching my hair, by the way. Will post pictures later, along with pictures from my fifth round that I did a couple of weeks ago, but never made it to the internet.
Thursday, 20 February 2014
Uneasy
I hate it when things are predictable. Guess what emotion is hitting the roof today? Yeah, anger. What is up with that, I don't understand. Okay, I might have underestimated that, cause now I have anxiety, I'm sad and angry all at once and after each other. Seriously, why does quit smoking have to be so damn hard?
Now I wonder, should I try to endure this through or take something to calm down? Cause suddenly I started thinking about everything and anything that makes me feel like shit, and there are twisting knots building nests in my stomach.
Three and a half hours later. That's it, I'm taking something. I don't even know what I'm feeling anymore, just a strong discomfort that my body doesn't know how to react to. I can't stop thinking, can't focus on what I want instead of all those painful thoughts. Not even world of warcraft works today.
Too tired and drugged down to write any more, but the feelings of discomfort still remain, though a bit weaker than before. Taking a shower helped a bit.
Now I wonder, should I try to endure this through or take something to calm down? Cause suddenly I started thinking about everything and anything that makes me feel like shit, and there are twisting knots building nests in my stomach.
Three and a half hours later. That's it, I'm taking something. I don't even know what I'm feeling anymore, just a strong discomfort that my body doesn't know how to react to. I can't stop thinking, can't focus on what I want instead of all those painful thoughts. Not even world of warcraft works today.
Too tired and drugged down to write any more, but the feelings of discomfort still remain, though a bit weaker than before. Taking a shower helped a bit.
Wednesday, 19 February 2014
Following the pattern
So I figured out that "three days of misery" -cycle yesterday? Anxiety, sadness, anger and then it starts over again. So yesterday was day four with anxiety again, and today... wait for it... I'm riddled with sadness. So I'm "looking forward" to get anger tomorrow then. Seems very repetitive, can't I get something new instead? Oh, have to be careful what I wish for, cause it might just come true.
It's heavy, this sadness. As if there was a weight on me, a pressure of some sort. I don't know why I feel so sad though. If it's the music I listen to, the memories that haunt me, the weather outside my window, or the mess of things occupying this room. Everything I think of becomes sad in a way, I see the gloom in everything.
Starving is like sliding down a hill. It tears you up and wears you out. No... I do try.
Ok, how the hell does one lose a pack of eggs? I hereby resign from life. Seriously, I bought them yesterday, but I've somehow lost them completely. I don't care, I won't look for them, I won't do anything that involves eggs or any other household thing. Just gonna do the only thing I'm good at: sit on my ass and feel like shit.
Yeah, I'm just having a bad day... week... month... year... life. Seriously, this sucks. It's like I'm lost in a darkness somewhere and no matter how much light I bring I still can't see anything. Maybe that means that I'm blind. Figuratively, I think that I am blind, cause I can only see darkness.
I may not have a main character in WoW, but I think that Izanamí is my favourite character. Maybe that counts, and also that I still can't stop playing with him. I log in every day, and I always start with doing quests as Izanamí. I think I'll call him my main. He kinda deserves it.
Soundtrack: "I want it all" by Queen.
It's heavy, this sadness. As if there was a weight on me, a pressure of some sort. I don't know why I feel so sad though. If it's the music I listen to, the memories that haunt me, the weather outside my window, or the mess of things occupying this room. Everything I think of becomes sad in a way, I see the gloom in everything.
Starving is like sliding down a hill. It tears you up and wears you out. No... I do try.
Ok, how the hell does one lose a pack of eggs? I hereby resign from life. Seriously, I bought them yesterday, but I've somehow lost them completely. I don't care, I won't look for them, I won't do anything that involves eggs or any other household thing. Just gonna do the only thing I'm good at: sit on my ass and feel like shit.
Yeah, I'm just having a bad day... week... month... year... life. Seriously, this sucks. It's like I'm lost in a darkness somewhere and no matter how much light I bring I still can't see anything. Maybe that means that I'm blind. Figuratively, I think that I am blind, cause I can only see darkness.
I may not have a main character in WoW, but I think that Izanamí is my favourite character. Maybe that counts, and also that I still can't stop playing with him. I log in every day, and I always start with doing quests as Izanamí. I think I'll call him my main. He kinda deserves it.
Soundtrack: "I want it all" by Queen.
Monday, 17 February 2014
Searing thoughts
Everything tastes like metal since I quit smoking. It's like I'm on Imovane all the time, cause when I actually do take it (it's been twice in two weeks) I don't notice any difference at all. I'm thinking myself to madness tonight. Started with thoughts about my magic abilities, moved on to Dala and Caspian, then got to anxiety and ended up in trains and suicide. In a little under two hours.
At first I thought of posting it here, but it's way beyond too much and I don't wanna go through it again. Nor do I want to put anyone else through it, come to think of it... I've had a lot of anxiety today. My days are in a neat pattern of misery of three days as of lately. Day one: anxiety. Day two: sadness. Day three: anger. Now I'm on day four, which is anxiety again.
It's like every day has its own pretty little colour! Anger should be red, and sadness should be black, right... but what about anxiety? Perhaps yellow, it sort of screams a bit, doesn't it? Sorry, you don't have to answer that.
I don't know why, but I googled my headache, the chronic tension-type. Most of it sort of made me a bit upset though. Because it was to me useless crap. Like self help stuff and about the neck and back muscles being the cause of the pain. Like the fuck? If I meant back/neck pain I would have googled for that!
No, the searing pain constantly eating at me originates from my forehead, temples, sinus and jaws. This headache... it's psychosomatic to begin with. Sometimes I even think it might be only imagined, but then other days I can actually see how tense I am when I look in a mirror.
Mostly it's mild to moderate, so I'm not crumbling beneath the pain all the time. Some days I hardly even notice it until someone asks me about it. Then I check if it's still there and then I can't think clearly cause the pain is piercing my every thought. Agony... too much agony in my life.
At first I thought of posting it here, but it's way beyond too much and I don't wanna go through it again. Nor do I want to put anyone else through it, come to think of it... I've had a lot of anxiety today. My days are in a neat pattern of misery of three days as of lately. Day one: anxiety. Day two: sadness. Day three: anger. Now I'm on day four, which is anxiety again.
It's like every day has its own pretty little colour! Anger should be red, and sadness should be black, right... but what about anxiety? Perhaps yellow, it sort of screams a bit, doesn't it? Sorry, you don't have to answer that.
I don't know why, but I googled my headache, the chronic tension-type. Most of it sort of made me a bit upset though. Because it was to me useless crap. Like self help stuff and about the neck and back muscles being the cause of the pain. Like the fuck? If I meant back/neck pain I would have googled for that!
No, the searing pain constantly eating at me originates from my forehead, temples, sinus and jaws. This headache... it's psychosomatic to begin with. Sometimes I even think it might be only imagined, but then other days I can actually see how tense I am when I look in a mirror.
Mostly it's mild to moderate, so I'm not crumbling beneath the pain all the time. Some days I hardly even notice it until someone asks me about it. Then I check if it's still there and then I can't think clearly cause the pain is piercing my every thought. Agony... too much agony in my life.
Sunday, 16 February 2014
Holding on
How many times a day do I think to myself: "damn I really want a cigarette"? At least ten, I think. Today has been worse than yesterday, for whatever reason. Too many thoughts that I can't remember, too many feelings that I can't explain and too much anxiety that I don't understand.
I should go to bed, but I wanna stay up to 3 am to harvest some crops in WoW for cooking when the daily quests are reset. I hope that goes for the gardening as well, though I don't know for sure. But I can't concentrate on WoW, can't focus on flying between quests, doing them and keeping track of what it is that I'm doing exactly.
I had this dream tonight, I only remember it vaguely, but I do remember it still. In it I was seeing this incredibly beautiful and charming girl. Her hair was long and really soft in a dark brown shade and her skin was cola coloured with a golden glow, and she had big brown eyes. I kinda miss her now.
This is the third dream I've had within one, or is it two, weeks about me hooking up with different girls. And Lee Pace popped up there in a corner in one of the dreams. It's true that I have been thinking a bit more about girls lately. I have this nagging feeling that I'd like to meet a fantastic woman who would sweep me off my feet and make me forget about my unrequited love.
I'm hungry for a different kind of love, a love I haven't expressed, only felt, before. I've been in love with girls before, not that many considering all the guys I've liked in the same time frame. But I've never had a relationship or anything mutual with a girl, and I suppose I just want that. Not so strange perhaps. It's like I have a whole feast of delicious food in front of me and I only go for what I've already tasted before.
Though I know I probably and most likely won't get that far in a long time, or at all. My crush is just too damn important, I just can't let him go. Not without answers to my gazillion questions I'm too afraid to ask, at least. Those "will I ever have a chance with him" sort of questions. The ones of which answers will either thrill me or kill me. And I don't want to die, not yet.
I'm stalling, waking, hesitating to make my move. Afraid to mess things up, causing problems that cannot be solved. It would also be putting a heavy burden on him if he was to reject me. Cause I don't want to make him feel guilty and awful for rejecting me, if that is what he would do. It's what I'm expecting, but I hope to heaven that isn't true.
I live on the last remaining hopes inside me, clinging to them so hard I can't feel my clenched hands anymore. But it doesn't matter, I won't stop holding on. The hopes for a better future, with a body I can stand and him by my side. Living together so safe with each other and our cats and dogs or whatever pets we should absolutely have.
In that beautiful picture we would live somewhere in Uppland, I'd dump this lovely apartment for someone else to have. I'd do anything for him, and that includes risking my health. Besides, then we'd liver closer to both his and my friends.
I should go to bed, but I wanna stay up to 3 am to harvest some crops in WoW for cooking when the daily quests are reset. I hope that goes for the gardening as well, though I don't know for sure. But I can't concentrate on WoW, can't focus on flying between quests, doing them and keeping track of what it is that I'm doing exactly.
I had this dream tonight, I only remember it vaguely, but I do remember it still. In it I was seeing this incredibly beautiful and charming girl. Her hair was long and really soft in a dark brown shade and her skin was cola coloured with a golden glow, and she had big brown eyes. I kinda miss her now.
This is the third dream I've had within one, or is it two, weeks about me hooking up with different girls. And Lee Pace popped up there in a corner in one of the dreams. It's true that I have been thinking a bit more about girls lately. I have this nagging feeling that I'd like to meet a fantastic woman who would sweep me off my feet and make me forget about my unrequited love.
I'm hungry for a different kind of love, a love I haven't expressed, only felt, before. I've been in love with girls before, not that many considering all the guys I've liked in the same time frame. But I've never had a relationship or anything mutual with a girl, and I suppose I just want that. Not so strange perhaps. It's like I have a whole feast of delicious food in front of me and I only go for what I've already tasted before.
Though I know I probably and most likely won't get that far in a long time, or at all. My crush is just too damn important, I just can't let him go. Not without answers to my gazillion questions I'm too afraid to ask, at least. Those "will I ever have a chance with him" sort of questions. The ones of which answers will either thrill me or kill me. And I don't want to die, not yet.
I'm stalling, waking, hesitating to make my move. Afraid to mess things up, causing problems that cannot be solved. It would also be putting a heavy burden on him if he was to reject me. Cause I don't want to make him feel guilty and awful for rejecting me, if that is what he would do. It's what I'm expecting, but I hope to heaven that isn't true.
I live on the last remaining hopes inside me, clinging to them so hard I can't feel my clenched hands anymore. But it doesn't matter, I won't stop holding on. The hopes for a better future, with a body I can stand and him by my side. Living together so safe with each other and our cats and dogs or whatever pets we should absolutely have.
In that beautiful picture we would live somewhere in Uppland, I'd dump this lovely apartment for someone else to have. I'd do anything for him, and that includes risking my health. Besides, then we'd liver closer to both his and my friends.
Saturday, 15 February 2014
Lovesick fool
(I didn't intend to post this, and you can hate me all you want, cause I kinda deserve it. I won't link to this entry, just dump it here untagged and without correcting it.)
I don't know what I'm writing for. Usually, I always write as if I'm gonna post it, but I don't wanna post this. I feel as though I owe the world nothing, may it crumble before my feet because I want nothing to do with it. My disgust and hatred for it grows stronger yet. I can't stand Facebook anymore, I just can't. I won't leave it, because it's basically the only way I can keep in contact with my love, but I won't be on there as much as I use to.
I'm just so damn tired of seeing all the posts about politics, animal rights, people complaining about either work or school, and those damn cartoons. And my wall is covered, riddled with that. I'm sorry, but Facebook doesn't live up to my high expectations.
Was it better before? When we were young and carefree, as they use to say? When studying wasn't a matter of life and death, when weeks didn't only consist of Mondays and Fridays, when politics was a mere interest at best, when being a vegetarian was a personal choice you should by no means try to impose on someone else like a god damn religion?!
I'm sorry, I'm raging again. And what for? Because I think my friends are becoming like those dull minded adults I hated when I was a kid? Or because I'm stuck in my dark fantasy world while they are living their lives out there in the real world? Because I will never be like them, and at the same time as I hate them for it I envy them too.
The further I am from the world, the further I want to be. It's like I can't run far enough. And I really can't, not as long as I live in it. My heart is aching and I cannot run away, my head is exploding and I cannot prevent it, my soul is dying and I cannot revive it. So then let it be. Let it kill me if it must, I don't care. I've cared too much for a lifetime and now it's time to let go. Not literally as in suicide, but figuratively, like in stop trying and stop fighting invisible foes.
I don't know what to do. For months now I've been caring less and less about my friends and family, it's like they all just fade into the shadow. But I realise it's me who's fading. It's just that, should I keep pretending that I care or just show them what a monster I've turned into and let them walk away one after the other? Who wants to be friends with a liar, someone only pretending to care about them?
Yeah, who wants that. But the thing is, I've already stated this in my blog before and I know at least a few of my friends read it, but I've never gotten any comments about it. I don't know but I think they didn't think I meant *them* in particular. I said everyone except my love, and most of them must have realised it's not them I'm in love with, right?
I'm not over reacting or exaggerating, even my best friend and I seem to get further away from each other. It pains me, but I just don't know what to do. I don't want to lose her, but I don't want to call her either. I never thought unrequited love could do this to me, or if it's depression, or one hell of a combination of them both. That I would shut out the world like this, on purpose, cause I can't stand to be around anyone else than him.
I don't even know what kind of love that is, cause I sure as hell haven't experienced the like before. But that's the thing about love, it just is, you can't define it. And right now... it's eating away at me. Until there's nothing left but the remains of my broken heart, bleeding for him and no one else and nothing else in the whole world. I don't wanna go down that road, but I don't wanna run back either.
So I'm lost, lingering. It feels like I'm rushing down a hill, knowing where I was and where I'm heading but I can't stop it, can't turn back. Cause maybe I have to get down to the bottom before I can get back up again? Maybe I have to go down that road.
My head is hurting, and these words never end. I think my hand is aching too. I won't come to a conclusion, cause I never intended it to be one. I don't know the ending cause I'm still in the midst of it all, still dancing, screaming, laughing and crying. I don't even know if I will survive this, cause the more persistent I am the deeper I will go, and if I say stop and try to get out of it now I will still fall. There's no winning in this situation, I think love finally got to me.
Maybe that is my conclusion, that I think love has finally gotten to me. I've survived heart breaks since I was eleven or twelve years old and wanted to murder a classmate for hooking up with my crush. I even went as far as to plan the deed and even brought a knife with me to school. Never showed or told anyone about it. But I knew already then that I would never be able to reason with my heart.
I don't even know how many people I've been in love with. What to count as a crush or an incident among all the people I've had interest for. Of all of those, it's been dozens, maybe 30 or 40 altogether. I know I wasn't in love with all of them, but many.
And how many times has my heart been broken? If I count right it would have been that first time I mentioned... then again at 15... twice when I was 17... at 19... a double hit when I was 22 which almost killed me... and yeah, that's it, if I shouldn't count this as well? Seven or eight times then. No, the first time would be Caspian. Count that in too and we land on nine times. Nine times, nine pieces scattered allover. I wonder how many more it will take, before shards turn into splinter and splinter turns into dust.
Anyone ever thinking that my heart will heal someday can just stop it right now. It's a downward spiral and there's only one way out. I will love and hurt and further more until I can't take it anymore. That is my sealed fate.
I don't know for sure what will be the final hit, what will be the real cause of my death whenever that is gonna happen. I can't tell for sure if it's gonna be my broken heart, my sadness, my general darkness and all else going on in my head, my self hatred, my longing to Dala and Caspian or something entirely different.
What will be the final hit, the trigger for my suicide. But if I had to guess, which you know I gladly do, it's gonna be a massive hit of everything at once. "Pretentious, Moi?" sings "your perfect age deceives you" and I can't help but repeating it in my head over and over. Will I die at 27 or will I find a way to live at that time? What is 27, and why is it so special to me?
It would have been more helpful if it was an age I have already passed, like 13 or 17 or 19. Significant numbers that are special to me. Cause it's easier to understand in retrospect than trying to foretell the future. Gah, it's driving me insane sometimes! Numbers, years, the past and the future. Love, heartbreak and obsession.
All that love that I've wasted, unrequited. Only one of everyone I've given my heart completely to, wanted to give me theirs in return. And we ended up breaking each other's hearts. Maybe love just isn't for me. People like me only end up devastated in the end, no matter how much we are loved in return. I'm not saying I know others like me that way, but it's a known phenomena. That of intense people who fall in and out of love quickly, become obsessed and obsessive. There's no future for those people, and I'm one of them.
But I don't fall out of love, I just give up. I think I can't live without them when my heart breaks, and it always breaks when I realise that I can't have that person. So it's hopeless either way and eventually I move on. Knowing that I will never look at that person in the same way again.
Sometimes I fantasise about getting together with that one person who loved me back the same, cause tragically, it was the best time of my life. Thinking that maybe there's a chance I could get that back? It's a horrible thought, I know, cause why would I want to get back together the the person that not only broke my heart before I broke his, but also was manipulative, very jealous and obsessive of me as if I was his property?
Of course I don't really want to get together with him again, it's just a thought that's been nagging at me for some time now. I didn't fall out of love with him either, I just got the hell out of there before it was too late. It's ironic, isn't it? That the best year of my life was also definitely the worst. 2007 rings a bell, doesn't it?
I don't know what I'm writing for. Usually, I always write as if I'm gonna post it, but I don't wanna post this. I feel as though I owe the world nothing, may it crumble before my feet because I want nothing to do with it. My disgust and hatred for it grows stronger yet. I can't stand Facebook anymore, I just can't. I won't leave it, because it's basically the only way I can keep in contact with my love, but I won't be on there as much as I use to.
I'm just so damn tired of seeing all the posts about politics, animal rights, people complaining about either work or school, and those damn cartoons. And my wall is covered, riddled with that. I'm sorry, but Facebook doesn't live up to my high expectations.
Was it better before? When we were young and carefree, as they use to say? When studying wasn't a matter of life and death, when weeks didn't only consist of Mondays and Fridays, when politics was a mere interest at best, when being a vegetarian was a personal choice you should by no means try to impose on someone else like a god damn religion?!
I'm sorry, I'm raging again. And what for? Because I think my friends are becoming like those dull minded adults I hated when I was a kid? Or because I'm stuck in my dark fantasy world while they are living their lives out there in the real world? Because I will never be like them, and at the same time as I hate them for it I envy them too.
The further I am from the world, the further I want to be. It's like I can't run far enough. And I really can't, not as long as I live in it. My heart is aching and I cannot run away, my head is exploding and I cannot prevent it, my soul is dying and I cannot revive it. So then let it be. Let it kill me if it must, I don't care. I've cared too much for a lifetime and now it's time to let go. Not literally as in suicide, but figuratively, like in stop trying and stop fighting invisible foes.
I don't know what to do. For months now I've been caring less and less about my friends and family, it's like they all just fade into the shadow. But I realise it's me who's fading. It's just that, should I keep pretending that I care or just show them what a monster I've turned into and let them walk away one after the other? Who wants to be friends with a liar, someone only pretending to care about them?
Yeah, who wants that. But the thing is, I've already stated this in my blog before and I know at least a few of my friends read it, but I've never gotten any comments about it. I don't know but I think they didn't think I meant *them* in particular. I said everyone except my love, and most of them must have realised it's not them I'm in love with, right?
I'm not over reacting or exaggerating, even my best friend and I seem to get further away from each other. It pains me, but I just don't know what to do. I don't want to lose her, but I don't want to call her either. I never thought unrequited love could do this to me, or if it's depression, or one hell of a combination of them both. That I would shut out the world like this, on purpose, cause I can't stand to be around anyone else than him.
I don't even know what kind of love that is, cause I sure as hell haven't experienced the like before. But that's the thing about love, it just is, you can't define it. And right now... it's eating away at me. Until there's nothing left but the remains of my broken heart, bleeding for him and no one else and nothing else in the whole world. I don't wanna go down that road, but I don't wanna run back either.
So I'm lost, lingering. It feels like I'm rushing down a hill, knowing where I was and where I'm heading but I can't stop it, can't turn back. Cause maybe I have to get down to the bottom before I can get back up again? Maybe I have to go down that road.
My head is hurting, and these words never end. I think my hand is aching too. I won't come to a conclusion, cause I never intended it to be one. I don't know the ending cause I'm still in the midst of it all, still dancing, screaming, laughing and crying. I don't even know if I will survive this, cause the more persistent I am the deeper I will go, and if I say stop and try to get out of it now I will still fall. There's no winning in this situation, I think love finally got to me.
Maybe that is my conclusion, that I think love has finally gotten to me. I've survived heart breaks since I was eleven or twelve years old and wanted to murder a classmate for hooking up with my crush. I even went as far as to plan the deed and even brought a knife with me to school. Never showed or told anyone about it. But I knew already then that I would never be able to reason with my heart.
I don't even know how many people I've been in love with. What to count as a crush or an incident among all the people I've had interest for. Of all of those, it's been dozens, maybe 30 or 40 altogether. I know I wasn't in love with all of them, but many.
And how many times has my heart been broken? If I count right it would have been that first time I mentioned... then again at 15... twice when I was 17... at 19... a double hit when I was 22 which almost killed me... and yeah, that's it, if I shouldn't count this as well? Seven or eight times then. No, the first time would be Caspian. Count that in too and we land on nine times. Nine times, nine pieces scattered allover. I wonder how many more it will take, before shards turn into splinter and splinter turns into dust.
Anyone ever thinking that my heart will heal someday can just stop it right now. It's a downward spiral and there's only one way out. I will love and hurt and further more until I can't take it anymore. That is my sealed fate.
I don't know for sure what will be the final hit, what will be the real cause of my death whenever that is gonna happen. I can't tell for sure if it's gonna be my broken heart, my sadness, my general darkness and all else going on in my head, my self hatred, my longing to Dala and Caspian or something entirely different.
What will be the final hit, the trigger for my suicide. But if I had to guess, which you know I gladly do, it's gonna be a massive hit of everything at once. "Pretentious, Moi?" sings "your perfect age deceives you" and I can't help but repeating it in my head over and over. Will I die at 27 or will I find a way to live at that time? What is 27, and why is it so special to me?
It would have been more helpful if it was an age I have already passed, like 13 or 17 or 19. Significant numbers that are special to me. Cause it's easier to understand in retrospect than trying to foretell the future. Gah, it's driving me insane sometimes! Numbers, years, the past and the future. Love, heartbreak and obsession.
All that love that I've wasted, unrequited. Only one of everyone I've given my heart completely to, wanted to give me theirs in return. And we ended up breaking each other's hearts. Maybe love just isn't for me. People like me only end up devastated in the end, no matter how much we are loved in return. I'm not saying I know others like me that way, but it's a known phenomena. That of intense people who fall in and out of love quickly, become obsessed and obsessive. There's no future for those people, and I'm one of them.
But I don't fall out of love, I just give up. I think I can't live without them when my heart breaks, and it always breaks when I realise that I can't have that person. So it's hopeless either way and eventually I move on. Knowing that I will never look at that person in the same way again.
Sometimes I fantasise about getting together with that one person who loved me back the same, cause tragically, it was the best time of my life. Thinking that maybe there's a chance I could get that back? It's a horrible thought, I know, cause why would I want to get back together the the person that not only broke my heart before I broke his, but also was manipulative, very jealous and obsessive of me as if I was his property?
Of course I don't really want to get together with him again, it's just a thought that's been nagging at me for some time now. I didn't fall out of love with him either, I just got the hell out of there before it was too late. It's ironic, isn't it? That the best year of my life was also definitely the worst. 2007 rings a bell, doesn't it?
Anti Valentine
I've been broken for far too long, just kept on tearing up the bleeding wounds, not given them a chance to actually heal. I think that it's time to stop running now. Let myself feel horrible, cause I do have a good reason for it, but without escaping or trying to flee from it. It's just a feeling, just a memory, it can't harm me.
I won't run today, just gonna sit here, let me feel that pain. Cause I know that running away definitely won't make it better. Sure it hurts, just seeing and reading all that commercial bullshit about this day, but there's nothing I can do about that. Society will always have that fucked up view about love, and it will always make people who don't fit that view miserable. And the celebration itself, is a constant reminder.
How can they do that, celebrate this awful day? Are they insane?! Oh, what does it matter what anybody thinks.
Hey, this day didn't turn out too bad after all. I was a bit upset for a couple of hours in the evening, but it has now passed and I watch a movie, embroider and play WoW, one after the other. Been trying to make my beard growth increase, with magic for a little while now. Hopefully it will work, but I can't be sure of course.
I'm still struggling with keeping up with my thoughts, and sometimes my mind just goes blank. No grey areas, no in betweens, it's just either or. I need a shower. I just have to shower just because of what day it is. Connecting with my ravaged body, or something like that. To reassure myself that it's actually in the past, that time has gone and won't come back, no matter how strongly it feels that way.
I won't run today, just gonna sit here, let me feel that pain. Cause I know that running away definitely won't make it better. Sure it hurts, just seeing and reading all that commercial bullshit about this day, but there's nothing I can do about that. Society will always have that fucked up view about love, and it will always make people who don't fit that view miserable. And the celebration itself, is a constant reminder.
How can they do that, celebrate this awful day? Are they insane?! Oh, what does it matter what anybody thinks.
Hey, this day didn't turn out too bad after all. I was a bit upset for a couple of hours in the evening, but it has now passed and I watch a movie, embroider and play WoW, one after the other. Been trying to make my beard growth increase, with magic for a little while now. Hopefully it will work, but I can't be sure of course.
I'm still struggling with keeping up with my thoughts, and sometimes my mind just goes blank. No grey areas, no in betweens, it's just either or. I need a shower. I just have to shower just because of what day it is. Connecting with my ravaged body, or something like that. To reassure myself that it's actually in the past, that time has gone and won't come back, no matter how strongly it feels that way.
Thursday, 13 February 2014
Make it through
I cannot torture my body enough for all the hatred I feel towards it. I couldn't find my binder as I was about to go to Visby and see my shrink earlier today. You should have seen the despair in me, I can't leave the house without it. I cried out to my mother on the phone, then she's helped me find it. I told her I simply won't go if we didn't find my binder. Then should I ask her if she still thinks the surgery won't do me any good?
It's like nothing can calm me down these last two weeks. I'm a nerve wreck, constantly on the edge. My body aches more than usually, I forget to eat more often, my sleep only seems to make me more tired, it's hard to focus, it's hard to think. Why am I supposed to have this much anxiety? There's not enough room for it inside me.
Well, the anxiety hardly only exists because I misplaced a piece of clothing. No, it's always here. Like my shadow, it's following me everywhere I go. And sometimes it attacks me with full strength, beats me to the ground and I forget how to get up again. Sometimes that happens several times a day.
I have a sensation that February is gonna be a very long month this year. Even though it's technically the shortest. I couldn't tell my shrink about tomorrow, it's just too damn private. Yeah, there's my logic, cause it's easy to write about it online and a whole different matter to sit one on one in a white office and talk about it. But I'm pretty sure she noticed something was up with me, cause it's hard to lie when you're shaking like a leaf. Didn't stop me from trying though, cause it's my life damn it, and I'm just not ready to open up about that yet.
And why isn't that in my chart by the way? I've told shrinks before. Maybe they didn't believe me. Of course they didn't believe me. Why would they? It doesn't matter if I'm shaking and crying, I have no real proof that it actually happened. It was never documented at the time, I never went to a hospital or anything after. I just tried to bury it in the past. All I've got is my words, and that's all I've ever had.
My thoughts are mostly very scattered. I can hardly finish one before the next pops up and then the third and so on. It's like I'm trying to do fifteen things at the same time and it's impossible to keep track of it all. So I just zone out and let it slip away instead. That's why I don't put up everything I write here. It's too much and too little and I don't have the attention span to read it through. Though I'm gonna try to keep you posted, at least once a day or so, especially since things are happening and such nowadays.
I've been smoke free since Friday last week, and it's Thursday now so it's already been a whole week! A little over three weeks left until the surgery, and I still don't know how the hell I'm supposed to survive that. No smokes, no pain killers, no cutting... no nothing? I'll make it, cause I just fucking have to.
It's like nothing can calm me down these last two weeks. I'm a nerve wreck, constantly on the edge. My body aches more than usually, I forget to eat more often, my sleep only seems to make me more tired, it's hard to focus, it's hard to think. Why am I supposed to have this much anxiety? There's not enough room for it inside me.
Well, the anxiety hardly only exists because I misplaced a piece of clothing. No, it's always here. Like my shadow, it's following me everywhere I go. And sometimes it attacks me with full strength, beats me to the ground and I forget how to get up again. Sometimes that happens several times a day.
I have a sensation that February is gonna be a very long month this year. Even though it's technically the shortest. I couldn't tell my shrink about tomorrow, it's just too damn private. Yeah, there's my logic, cause it's easy to write about it online and a whole different matter to sit one on one in a white office and talk about it. But I'm pretty sure she noticed something was up with me, cause it's hard to lie when you're shaking like a leaf. Didn't stop me from trying though, cause it's my life damn it, and I'm just not ready to open up about that yet.
And why isn't that in my chart by the way? I've told shrinks before. Maybe they didn't believe me. Of course they didn't believe me. Why would they? It doesn't matter if I'm shaking and crying, I have no real proof that it actually happened. It was never documented at the time, I never went to a hospital or anything after. I just tried to bury it in the past. All I've got is my words, and that's all I've ever had.
My thoughts are mostly very scattered. I can hardly finish one before the next pops up and then the third and so on. It's like I'm trying to do fifteen things at the same time and it's impossible to keep track of it all. So I just zone out and let it slip away instead. That's why I don't put up everything I write here. It's too much and too little and I don't have the attention span to read it through. Though I'm gonna try to keep you posted, at least once a day or so, especially since things are happening and such nowadays.
I've been smoke free since Friday last week, and it's Thursday now so it's already been a whole week! A little over three weeks left until the surgery, and I still don't know how the hell I'm supposed to survive that. No smokes, no pain killers, no cutting... no nothing? I'll make it, cause I just fucking have to.
Wednesday, 12 February 2014
But love isn't fair
It's only two days left now, and the anxiety is holding a firm grip around my throat, suffocating me. It's the "Love is in the air" thing in world of warcraft now, and all the pink hearts popping up everywhere make me feel sick. Was it always like this? I don't remember.
This just struck me, what am I gonna do without the cigarettes this time? How can I endure this without the sweet smoke? Blood, alcohol, anxiolytic drugs, chocolate, blankets and warm showers, movies, more video gaming and whatever I can think of. Whatever I can think of...
I just got a phone call, and the person on the other end said they were calling from "Socialstyrelsen" and my heart missed a beat or two. I snapped at them and didn't know what I was feeling. But after they had explained who they were, I was like "oh... it's you" suddenly feeling utterly embarrassed and unnecessarily evil. Or something. It's just the LSS people, no worries at all.
I'm a bit jumpy and freaked allover today. Hardly know what I'm doing and I think I forgot to eat too. My head is spinning and I'm trying to calm down, but it's not easy. A thousand things run through it and I can't keep up. Maybe I shouldn't even try.
At first I thought this might not go so bad at all, considering I seem to take it better every year, but then this about the cigarettes. I'm in abstinence and quite a mess mentally. This... hopefully I don't go and do something stupid that I will regret after. It's just a memory, why do I let it kill me?
I miss my blood elf priest. Gonna go and do some pointless quests now. I know I don't write here that often nowadays, but trust me I do write, I just don't post it. Well, until now that is. The title, I just thought "love is in the air, but love isn't fair". No other reason, or whatever.
This just struck me, what am I gonna do without the cigarettes this time? How can I endure this without the sweet smoke? Blood, alcohol, anxiolytic drugs, chocolate, blankets and warm showers, movies, more video gaming and whatever I can think of. Whatever I can think of...
I just got a phone call, and the person on the other end said they were calling from "Socialstyrelsen" and my heart missed a beat or two. I snapped at them and didn't know what I was feeling. But after they had explained who they were, I was like "oh... it's you" suddenly feeling utterly embarrassed and unnecessarily evil. Or something. It's just the LSS people, no worries at all.
I'm a bit jumpy and freaked allover today. Hardly know what I'm doing and I think I forgot to eat too. My head is spinning and I'm trying to calm down, but it's not easy. A thousand things run through it and I can't keep up. Maybe I shouldn't even try.
At first I thought this might not go so bad at all, considering I seem to take it better every year, but then this about the cigarettes. I'm in abstinence and quite a mess mentally. This... hopefully I don't go and do something stupid that I will regret after. It's just a memory, why do I let it kill me?
I miss my blood elf priest. Gonna go and do some pointless quests now. I know I don't write here that often nowadays, but trust me I do write, I just don't post it. Well, until now that is. The title, I just thought "love is in the air, but love isn't fair". No other reason, or whatever.
Saturday, 8 February 2014
Pointless
I bleached my hair in a dream tonight. Wonder what that's supposed to mean. Maybe that I made the right choice in bleaching it for real. I've had recurring dreams where I'm blonde, it's almost like that's the way it's supposed to be somehow.
World of warcraft is having issues again. They're working on that, but I don't know how long it's gonna take. I'm trying not to get hysteric about it, telling myself I can embroider, write or knit instead. That it doesn't have to be so very upsetting. Not that it works though.
Everything seems so very pointless. What am I really doing with my life? Escaping it. I'm trying my hardest to escape from my horrible life without killing myself. Yeah, yeah, things are going well and I don't really want to die. It's just that I don't really want to live either. But embroidering things that I never finish, writing a lot of crap, playing video games without an end or any sort of real achievements... isn't that a bit pointless?
I don't know where I'm getting at, cause apparently I only like to do such "meaningless" things, which means that I actually bring some meaning to them. Nothing is simple though, is it? Cause they aren't totally meaningless, since I enjoy doing them, and by enjoying meaningless things they aren't per definition meaningless anymore.
So if there was a point with this entry, it would be that even though everything seems pointless sometimes, it doesn't have to mean that it is.
World of warcraft is having issues again. They're working on that, but I don't know how long it's gonna take. I'm trying not to get hysteric about it, telling myself I can embroider, write or knit instead. That it doesn't have to be so very upsetting. Not that it works though.
Everything seems so very pointless. What am I really doing with my life? Escaping it. I'm trying my hardest to escape from my horrible life without killing myself. Yeah, yeah, things are going well and I don't really want to die. It's just that I don't really want to live either. But embroidering things that I never finish, writing a lot of crap, playing video games without an end or any sort of real achievements... isn't that a bit pointless?
I don't know where I'm getting at, cause apparently I only like to do such "meaningless" things, which means that I actually bring some meaning to them. Nothing is simple though, is it? Cause they aren't totally meaningless, since I enjoy doing them, and by enjoying meaningless things they aren't per definition meaningless anymore.
So if there was a point with this entry, it would be that even though everything seems pointless sometimes, it doesn't have to mean that it is.
Thursday, 6 February 2014
Tired from sleeping
I had this really strenuous dream again tonight. I was at his home and he had like 7 sisters and 4 brother or something, that he was living with. I don't think I've ever had a dream before where I was interacting with so many different characters.
They had this insane schedule that they punished each other for if you skipped your chores. I was the guest there, but I still had to spend hour folding laundry and even dealing with their "laundry monster" which was something that looked like a halfbreed gorilla/yeti, who made crappy clothes for the family and guarded the washing machines.
So I've been chasing around him and doing his and his family's chores for hours at an end. God, I'm so tired now! "Sleep is for rest" yeah... tell that to my fucked up brain... And now for my last cigarette before the surgery. I think I deserve it.
They had this insane schedule that they punished each other for if you skipped your chores. I was the guest there, but I still had to spend hour folding laundry and even dealing with their "laundry monster" which was something that looked like a halfbreed gorilla/yeti, who made crappy clothes for the family and guarded the washing machines.
So I've been chasing around him and doing his and his family's chores for hours at an end. God, I'm so tired now! "Sleep is for rest" yeah... tell that to my fucked up brain... And now for my last cigarette before the surgery. I think I deserve it.
Wednesday, 5 February 2014
Wake up and endure
I think there will be a lot of coffee drinking today. I've been up for three hours but I can't wake up, can't stop yawning and can't focus on anything for more than a few minutes at a time. I've already had three nicotine gums and put on two patches of the strongest kind. Singing along to up beat songs and having caffeine pills with my coffee. Something just has to work.
God damn, I want to smoke! But it's not the nicotine that I'm craving. I'm over dosing on it, I can't need any more, that would be beyond crazy if I do. Trying to just hold a cigarette and pretend to smoke it (it looks really silly, I can assure you) to see it that can help even remotely. Nope, didn't work, I lit it. Second and last for today... (How the hell I'm supposed to survive this I don't know.)
My psychiatrist said yesterday that she will write in my chart that I'm officially smoke free as of now. I don't know if that should make me feel good or guilty, cause I still smoke. Very little, which I told her, but still. Had three cigarettes yesterday and there will only be two today and one tomorrow. Then I will be smoke free for real the day after tomorrow, on Friday.
God damn, I want to smoke! But it's not the nicotine that I'm craving. I'm over dosing on it, I can't need any more, that would be beyond crazy if I do. Trying to just hold a cigarette and pretend to smoke it (it looks really silly, I can assure you) to see it that can help even remotely. Nope, didn't work, I lit it. Second and last for today... (How the hell I'm supposed to survive this I don't know.)
My psychiatrist said yesterday that she will write in my chart that I'm officially smoke free as of now. I don't know if that should make me feel good or guilty, cause I still smoke. Very little, which I told her, but still. Had three cigarettes yesterday and there will only be two today and one tomorrow. Then I will be smoke free for real the day after tomorrow, on Friday.
What matters most
Ever since I got the news about that the surgery finally actually will happen, I've sensed a small glimpse of hope for my future. That suddenly everything doesn't look all too dim and dark. I know it won't bring me happiness (that is a very strong word, and I don't think any human being is truly happy). But I do think it will make me more complete, that it will boost my self esteem massively, that by removing one problem is a huge step to something that could one day lead to something close to happiness.
I guess you could compare it to people becoming parents for the first time: you know it's not gonna cure you, make you instantly happy or that all your problems will go away. But you know it will bring you joy and a sense of fulfilment. Something that you truly want, a decision that will forever change your life.
That's a little how I see it right now. I don't think I've been more positive about anything before. Not like this at least. I hate rules and being told what to do, yet here I am carefully following all the requirements for the surgery. I'm in constant pain that I choose to endure without pain killers because I can't take Treo or Bamyl. I'm forcing myself to quit smoking in a week even though I really love smoking. I'm risking everything, it feels like I'm risking everything for that surgery.
I guess you could compare it to people becoming parents for the first time: you know it's not gonna cure you, make you instantly happy or that all your problems will go away. But you know it will bring you joy and a sense of fulfilment. Something that you truly want, a decision that will forever change your life.
That's a little how I see it right now. I don't think I've been more positive about anything before. Not like this at least. I hate rules and being told what to do, yet here I am carefully following all the requirements for the surgery. I'm in constant pain that I choose to endure without pain killers because I can't take Treo or Bamyl. I'm forcing myself to quit smoking in a week even though I really love smoking. I'm risking everything, it feels like I'm risking everything for that surgery.
Tuesday, 4 February 2014
Falling fast
Smoking today's first cigarette is like a kiss, gentle and deep. I will miss this so much. Will only be three today as well, so the next one won't be until 5 pm. I'm seeing my psychiatrist today, I hope she can help me somehow.
I'm so tired and nothing can make me more alert. It's hard to focus on WoW, even though I really want to play, I zone out and forget what I was doing. Killing more monsters than I need to and not realising the quest is complete, killing the wrong monsters, flying in the wrong direction and so on.
What a way to start a day. Great, now I feel miserable because of my own fucked up way to deal with anxiety. I had not cut in about two weeks now, so this was my first relapse, and perhaps for a so-so okay reason. But it still makes me feel guilty. I know my cuts take about a week to heal up completely, so if I stop before the beginning of March it should be "fine" considering the surgery.
I've gotta buy more nicotine supplements, cause this just isn't working. I'm very addicted, I realise. Very, very addicted. And wearing two or three patches of the strongest kind simultaneously barely takes the edge of it. So... need more patches and chewing gums and whatever I can possibly find at the drug store, before my meeting in Visby. I really don't know how much longer I'll be able to go through this. I mean, I'm a damn mess even with the cigarettes to rely on.
I'm starting to wake up a bit now, finally. Yes! These chewing gums combined with all those patches helps a bit. I saw an instruction advise note in the drug store, that for those smoking more than 20 cigarettes a day should de-escalate a under three months period. Well...
I'm so tired and nothing can make me more alert. It's hard to focus on WoW, even though I really want to play, I zone out and forget what I was doing. Killing more monsters than I need to and not realising the quest is complete, killing the wrong monsters, flying in the wrong direction and so on.
What a way to start a day. Great, now I feel miserable because of my own fucked up way to deal with anxiety. I had not cut in about two weeks now, so this was my first relapse, and perhaps for a so-so okay reason. But it still makes me feel guilty. I know my cuts take about a week to heal up completely, so if I stop before the beginning of March it should be "fine" considering the surgery.
I've gotta buy more nicotine supplements, cause this just isn't working. I'm very addicted, I realise. Very, very addicted. And wearing two or three patches of the strongest kind simultaneously barely takes the edge of it. So... need more patches and chewing gums and whatever I can possibly find at the drug store, before my meeting in Visby. I really don't know how much longer I'll be able to go through this. I mean, I'm a damn mess even with the cigarettes to rely on.
I'm starting to wake up a bit now, finally. Yes! These chewing gums combined with all those patches helps a bit. I saw an instruction advise note in the drug store, that for those smoking more than 20 cigarettes a day should de-escalate a under three months period. Well...
Monday, 3 February 2014
The ultimate defeat
I feel very battered today. I've probably taken twenty something pills of various kinds along with two nicotine patches today. Lamotrigin, Abilify, D-vitamin supplements, Lamictal (?) Lergigan, Mirtazapin, caffeine pills in load, Sobril and what more.
To survive only having three cigarettes and this horrible anxiety within me that just won't go away no matter what the fuck I do. At this point, even smoking wouldn't be enough. Yeah, I'm gonna have that surgery in a month... if I don't kill myself before then.
Now I got tired instead with the same amount of anxiety. Thank you Sobril, you are such a helpful medication... not. I'm not out of Zyprexa, I just can't find it. And the last thing you need in a crisis is to start raging around the entire apartment for a box or pills.
Good thing I'm gonna see my psychiatrist tomorrow. Maybe I have to be committed to the psychiatric hospital again, just to get some help/support to survive this. I don't wanna screw it up, I just won't do that, it's not even close to an option!
I knew it was gonna be tough, but I didn't expect this. This is killing me, it feels like this could actually kill me. I didn't realise until now just how much smoking helps against all sorts of anxiety and random emotional distress. I'm running out of options and neither the pills or my DBT skills have any desired effect on me.
I'm on the verge of doing something stupid and I don't know just how dangerous that stupid thing would be or what it could lead to. I want to prevent it, I have to prevent it somehow. Cause right now nothing is more important than that surgery and I just have to be fit for it.
If this isn't hell I don't know what could be. I want this so much, you can't even imagine. I want it so much that I'm prepared to risk my life for it. It's like my will to live is not enough for me to survive.
That is the ultimate defeat.
To survive only having three cigarettes and this horrible anxiety within me that just won't go away no matter what the fuck I do. At this point, even smoking wouldn't be enough. Yeah, I'm gonna have that surgery in a month... if I don't kill myself before then.
Now I got tired instead with the same amount of anxiety. Thank you Sobril, you are such a helpful medication... not. I'm not out of Zyprexa, I just can't find it. And the last thing you need in a crisis is to start raging around the entire apartment for a box or pills.
Good thing I'm gonna see my psychiatrist tomorrow. Maybe I have to be committed to the psychiatric hospital again, just to get some help/support to survive this. I don't wanna screw it up, I just won't do that, it's not even close to an option!
I knew it was gonna be tough, but I didn't expect this. This is killing me, it feels like this could actually kill me. I didn't realise until now just how much smoking helps against all sorts of anxiety and random emotional distress. I'm running out of options and neither the pills or my DBT skills have any desired effect on me.
I'm on the verge of doing something stupid and I don't know just how dangerous that stupid thing would be or what it could lead to. I want to prevent it, I have to prevent it somehow. Cause right now nothing is more important than that surgery and I just have to be fit for it.
If this isn't hell I don't know what could be. I want this so much, you can't even imagine. I want it so much that I'm prepared to risk my life for it. It's like my will to live is not enough for me to survive.
That is the ultimate defeat.
Sunday, 2 February 2014
All work and all play
The gold making is going a bit easier in WoW now, as I expected. I've so far reached 6904 gold and still going strong. I've figured out what sells best and that I can instantly earn gold by killing a certain type of monsters. That, and doing daily quests allover the Pandaria continent I can with much effort make nearly 2000 gold in a day. In this pace I can have the mount in a couple of weeks instead of a couple of months.
Though, it's crazy hard work, and I doubt I'll be able to keep it up for that long, especially after I've stopped smoking and the nicotine craving starts to go down. Cause I can easily get through detoxing from physical addictions, it's the psychological part that is hard.
So yeah, I'm over dosing on nicotine patched now, but in a week or so I won't have to rely on them so much, since it's the cigarettes that I crave really, not the drug itself. I hope...
Oh, by the way, I had this crazy weird and awesome dream tonight. I was at a wild party with a few friends from Lundellska and we were with strippers/prostitutes. I was with two girls, first one and then the other. Then I was with a guy when the others had left. Bisexual even in my nightly dreams! Later in the dream I was on Iceland and met the gigolo (I've never had an opportunity to use that word before) again at a grocery store. He looked a bit like Lee Pace playing Thranduil in "The Hobbit". Too much Tumblr lately...
Though, it's crazy hard work, and I doubt I'll be able to keep it up for that long, especially after I've stopped smoking and the nicotine craving starts to go down. Cause I can easily get through detoxing from physical addictions, it's the psychological part that is hard.
So yeah, I'm over dosing on nicotine patched now, but in a week or so I won't have to rely on them so much, since it's the cigarettes that I crave really, not the drug itself. I hope...
Oh, by the way, I had this crazy weird and awesome dream tonight. I was at a wild party with a few friends from Lundellska and we were with strippers/prostitutes. I was with two girls, first one and then the other. Then I was with a guy when the others had left. Bisexual even in my nightly dreams! Later in the dream I was on Iceland and met the gigolo (I've never had an opportunity to use that word before) again at a grocery store. He looked a bit like Lee Pace playing Thranduil in "The Hobbit". Too much Tumblr lately...
Saturday, 1 February 2014
Sleep but no rest
This night was very exhausting. Not just because I woke up all the time (I don't know, maybe 20 times), but the dreams were confusing and distressing.
The first one I can remember was about me telling my best friends about the first time I was sexually assaulted. We were in a school yard just walking around and talking. First I told them the whole story in third person, and the dream ended with me saying it was me.
In another dream I was several different people in a complicated plot twist. I shifted between being an angsty teenager, a drug dealer, and a woman who was a full time thief mother to the teenager and ended up getting married to the drug dealer.
The positive side is that it was quite a relief when I could finally get up and out of bed. I hate it when I dream like that, it's like I can't get any rest at all. Thought about taking more sedatives/sleeping pills sometimes during the night, but I was too tired to get up. I didn't think of that I have a few extra pills on my bedside table. Easy access especially for occasions like that, but oh well.
The first one I can remember was about me telling my best friends about the first time I was sexually assaulted. We were in a school yard just walking around and talking. First I told them the whole story in third person, and the dream ended with me saying it was me.
In another dream I was several different people in a complicated plot twist. I shifted between being an angsty teenager, a drug dealer, and a woman who was a full time thief mother to the teenager and ended up getting married to the drug dealer.
The positive side is that it was quite a relief when I could finally get up and out of bed. I hate it when I dream like that, it's like I can't get any rest at all. Thought about taking more sedatives/sleeping pills sometimes during the night, but I was too tired to get up. I didn't think of that I have a few extra pills on my bedside table. Easy access especially for occasions like that, but oh well.
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