My sadness is crawling everywhere beneath my skin, I can feel it so damn much. It's one of few things I can't avoid feeling. Not when it's this intense, at least. I just want to have one fucking blog entry for today before I crash in my bed later tonight. But it won't become how I want for it to be.
I can't even express what I feel right now, I guess I'm not used to it anymore. Just this heavy weight that keeps pulling me down. It's a day when I purge everything I eat. I guess that's a bad day, but I don't even know why, except that it's my poisonous thoughts. But as my shrink always uses to say: it's not the thoughts that are dangerous, it's what you do. But if it wasn't for my thoughts I wouldn't be doing all this crap.
If it wasn't for my thoughts, my own hands wouldn't be the most dangerous things I own. All the harm I've caused myself with them over the last 10 years, and all the proof I have of it is my scarred body. Everything else never left a trace. I wish it would have. Now I'm currently working on letting my eating disorder leave a trace: a malnourished and thin body, damaged organs, and eventually death.
But if I don't die in time from it, I know what I'll have to do. I'm more scared, far more scared, of the height than the fall. I think it will be like flying. How the wind will feel too strong in my face and I'd likely hold my breath on my way down towards the asphalt. I wonder if it will hurt, or if I'll die so instantly that there won't be any pain. To me that doesn't matter. If I'll have two last minutes of my life in excruciating pain or just be gone instantly really doesn't matter, cause I've been in pain my whole life.
That pain... really won't measure with anything else. And physical pain has never really bothered me, not the pain itself. Only when it's been crippling me, when I haven't been able to function because of it. When I've had to take everything extra easy. Only then has physical pain bothered me. I'm in pain all the time, every second of the day, I have been since I was 15 years old.
I can take it, it doesn't scare me anymore. It's the emotional pain that makes me freak out. I could have stayed a painkiller addict, but I didn't. After that slight overdose that wasn't a suicide attempt, sometime during the fall/early winter of 2010, I just said nope and stopped taking those pills. Never asked for more of them. The headache may have ruined my life, but being addicted to those pills would have ruined it more.
Physical pain doesn't bother me much anymore. I mean, if it's really bad I take an aspirin and that's it. Might chug a glass of water and rest for a day. Or just continue as if nothing happened. I have my head, my back and my knee now. All from restraining myself too much at some point or another. Those pains will never get better. My back pain is temporary, but as long as I'm a computer chair potato it's gonna stay and with all likelihood also get worse.
I've given up on my headache, it can be there. I wouldn't know what it's like to be without it. I use to think that people who only have experienced physical pain, no matter how horrible, don't know real pain. I should know, cause even though my headache has gone up to the roof in strength and fucking beyond it so to the point I was in delirium, it's never been as bad as my emotional pain. Never ever and not even close.
I would say that heartbreak is the worst. That's what's been driving me to suicide, more times than I could count. And the worst thing about it is that my heart never once healed. It just kept breaking. As I fell for more idiots that never once wanted me. I never learned and I don't even think that's the point. I think the point is that it will drive me to suicide, it just hasn't been bad enough yet.
Cause what else would it be? Not even my awful memories that make me wish I was dead can push me off the edge, so what else? I won't fall in love again, that much is certain. I live and die for K and that is it. So maybe I just know something bad is gonna happen to him. Fuck, I really don't want him pulled in into my mess... what if he's a part of my prophecy? I can't breathe.
I wouldn't be able to accept it, if somehow his pain is related to mine. I need for him to be okay, more than okay, I need for him to be happy. Please God, if you have any mercy left within you since you created this awful human race: don't fucking hurt him.
I don't care if you think he deserves it for whatever he possibly could have done, I just wouldn't be able to tolerate it. He needs to live a happy life, from 2 years ago at least if not longer. I don't care if that life includes me or not anymore, I love him too much to even give a damn about my own broken heart. If anything, I just hope my existence could be helpful for him somehow, as a friend, cause I know there won't be any more than that.
I know it and part of me sort of accepts it by now. I've grown as a person and I've descended too, but I think these thoughts do prove that I'm not always as selfish as I sometimes can be. Not when it comes to K. I still put him before myself, almost like a father to his child, but then that would be weird. But my love to K is perhaps similar, in a way. That unconditional love that truly means he could do or be whatever or anything I would still never love him any less.
I fear my departure would hurt him too much. I'm not like most suicidal people seem to be, like they don't even think they are loved. I know that I'm loved, even if I wouldn't believe it when people say it to me, it's obvious in their actions. And actually the number of times I have heard it, are few compared to how long I've lived on this Earth. My parents have never said it to me, most of my friends haven't either, nor any of my relatives. Still I know, cause their eyes and their actions don't lie.
And therefore I know that me dying would hurt them tremendously. I'm not stupid, I'm not forever stuck in the bubble of depression or whatever this is. I'm still able to know what they feel without them telling it to me straight out. I do have a lot of empathy even if it might not always seem that way and I do know that my emotional quote is higher than my IQ. That isn't saying much though, considering all the stupid IQ tests I've done that all show me a result of less than 100. So maybe I'm not that smart either, or those tests are faulty. How can I know.
But I have to die, and I'm just counting the months I have left. It finally caught up with me, again, the prophecy that's more or less followed me for 10 years now. And I have to believe in it. I just have to. It's never been this real before, I've never felt this ready, yet I'm not 100% ready as I still have some time left. I know that I will be though, when my time has come, no matter what.
It just won't leave my thoughts. Perhaps you've noticed. And you'll see me write about this, probably all the way. I try to keep you updated, but mostly I just need to vent. Now I'm really scared for K and hope with all my heart that he's got nothing to do with my awful prophecy. If he does, I'll hate God even more. Even among other Satanists I'm being frown upon. Cause you just don't choose the path of the devil just like that. But I've seen enough of what this god of yours can do, I've seen enough awfulness to know my path.
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