A new way to bleed

I still get sky high anxiety that sort of makes me "lock" and I can't even move for minutes. I just sit still trying to claw my way out of my own mind and reach for my razor blade, pills, booze, cigarettes or Theralen. I don't know what's going on, if it's something else than anxiety or if I'm just tired.

I'm slowly becoming more and more apathetic. I don't rock myself as much anymore, I'm not able to. All I can do is sit or lie down and stare when it gets like that. But I always manage to snap out of it, sooner or later. But the thing is, how do I even manage those random spurs of total apathy? What if I get stuck that way?

I finally managed to get some sleep this night, but it was full of exhausting dreams. I chased after K in them, I was stuck in psychiatric wards with weird and horrible rules and then I also dreamed about sleepwalking and cutting off my long nails. I woke up scared of that last thing being true but was relieved when I saw that my nails were intact.

I'm gonna need to bring my arm warmers, cause I ain't showing people my wounds at the ward. I don't know why, but somehow I find that being a very private thing. Fuck, I just got stuck like that again, for 15 minutes this time. It was horrible, but I could move a little, like blinking and swallowing. Until I just used all the force I could possibly summon and reached for a cigarette. First I went for the razor blade but then I thought that a cigarette is better. Oh my god, I'm so tired. That was so exhausting. How can sitting completely still be so exhausting? Because I was locked inside my own mind and I know of no scarier place.

It's a little bit hard to focus on anything right now as I'm still sort of coming out of it. 45 minutes later... yeah. I'm trying to just let the music soothe me combined with some chain smoking. I'm scared of getting stuck like that again. I don't quite have all my strings attached, it could happen. I feel like I'm close to it and have to keep myself busy, but I don't know how. I took some Theralen, and I'm up at 1 ml now. It's making me feel sick, I probably can't up the dose more without puking. I have to smoke menthol cigarettes and focus real hard to not puke.

Something I've learned on the way through overdosing in the past, how not to puke. It's not always successful of course, but it helps. So anyway, I'm hoping Theralen will help me stay focused on not ending up in that state again. Well, not today at least. Anyway, I think that's all I can think of right now. I'll get back to you when my words get back to me.

Disconnected

Sometimes... I don't know what I am anymore. Am I a demon, or an ex-demon? Am I human, or will I never entirely be human? It's like I'm something in between. Like I have all these memories that have been forming me so powerfully ever since I was a little kid, and all these latent feelings that connects me to my former demon self. A ravenous hunger, something that makes me drawn to evil deeds, but I never really step over to that darkness.

It's true, that I have in the past, I have looked darkness in the eyes and said "I belong to you" but truth is I don't know where I belong. It's like I'm stuck in the shadows, in between light and dark. I don't know my place. Dala is no more, I don't belong there anymore. But I don't belong here either and I don't feel human.

What I can relate to in this reality is very limited and comes in short supplies. Certain things, here and there, small and mostly insignificant. I have a purpose, but I feel disconnected from it. My undying curiosity for humans is dying.

My wish to learn about them is fading, it feels forced and fake. Like I'm performing someone else's wish, someone else's purpose. I'm detached, uninterested and wish to be left alone. I can't keep up with these humans, I don't feel like I'm one of them, but they look at me and they see a human being and I'm just silently whispering "no, you're wrong" under my breath. I don't want them to hear, don't want to cause a scene, don't want for them to have questions I can only answer in riddles.

Who believes me? I feel like an alien trapped in a human shell, unable to go back home again, a home no one else, or very few, has been to. I would like to meet someone, just one person, who has seen the emerald green grass fields and the skies so bright but never hurt your eyes. Someone who also could speak the language that I have now forgotten, someone who also remembers what it's like to be something other than human.

Cause I can't connect with humans anymore. Why? Cause they're boring, cause I can't relate, or simply because they are not him. Maybe it's my love for K that has blinded me lately? But I can't even reach out to him. I cry and stretch my arms out into the air but he's several hundred miles away and it all feels so terribly hopeless. And I know he's my last chance. How many more months, or even just weeks, can I carry on living like this?

I feel so empty, yet filled with every emotion known to man and some others that knows no name. And I'm so lost. This loneliness has really taken the best out of me and left me like this, unable to connect, to feel connected to anything anymore. I distance myself, but others take distance from me too. I can feel everything and everyone are just slipping away from me.

I know that I will never return to live on the main country again. It's a pretty dream, but it's not gonna happen. I lost everything when I moved here. All but my family. My heart isn't in anything anymore. It's just broken shatters, the remains of a heart that once could give people a sodding chance. Now I'm just a liar and a deceiver. I'm keeping to myself even when I'm around people and honestly, I don't know how I feel about school or going there. I've been lying from my very first minute there. They can't know the real me. No one can.

I don't even talk to people anymore, just three, and I don't talk much to those three either. It's K, my best friend and my mother. Well, that's something, right? I don't know what it is, but I feel like they're slipping away and I don't know how to hold on to them.

I try, god knows I try, but I still don't know how when I at the same time don't want anything to to with them. My heart aches and bleeds for them, to be near them, like we used to be before or like never before. The loneliness is breaking me down, yet protects me, but prevents me from reaching out again. I've lost touch with humanity and I don't know how to find it again.

I don't know my place in this world, I don't know who I am anymore, my life is slipping away from me. Nothing means anything to me, I'm not holding on to anything. I really don't. I just go with the flow and see where it takes me. To hell, probably. Another bigger piece of hell that I haven't yet seen. I fear it, and I can feel it breathing down my neck. Something big is coming and it's coming soon. I don't know what it is yet, but I'm sure it will destroy me and everything I am, everything I can pretend to hold on to. Whatever it is, it will be the end of me.

I turn 26 this spring and I have less than 2 years left, according to the prophecy and Satan's words. I feel like I'm dying, or more like I'm living on borrowed time. All I know is that time is ticking and I don't know what to do. I don't know what I want to do. Everything just seems so pointless or like it requires too much effort, time and money that I don't have. How do you make your life meaningful without money or even a grasp of sanity?

You can't. I've found out it's impossible in my case. I've given up on finding a meaning with it all. I can't wait for it to just end. But waiting I do, and I think that might be the only thing I ever do.

Ten years

It's quite an anniversary in January for me. I don't remember exact dates but it will be exactly 10 years ago that I: got depressed and stopped practising karate, got my chronic tension headache that's been with me ever since, started cutting myself, had my heart broken for the first time, realised that I'm transgender, the voice in my head became my enemy for the first time and I really started to fail in school.

January 2005 was probably the worst month in my life. And then followed a decade of pain and misery. I can honestly say, in a month, that I've been in this misery for a full decade. There's something oddly comforting in that. Something that makes me smile, a bitter smile, but I can't put my finger on exactly what that is.

I discovered a lot about myself that year, 2005 and in the end of 2004. About who I really am, everything from sexuality to the deepest, darkest secrets I will never reveal. I got in contact with the psychiatry for the first time that following summer, or maybe it wasn't until the fall, I don't remember the details. No cross that, I can only remember the details, not the big picture.

To be honest I never thought I'd live this long, not 10 years ago when I was diagnosed with Asperger, made my first 2 suicide attempts, got borderline psychotic and swore that I couldn't survive without the razor blades. When the war in my head became both mental and physical. When I tried to study in another city and it failed so miserably, I think I dissociated for 3 months. I had so much pressure on myself, I wanted to live a normal life with the abnormal brain that I had.

I was 16 years old through most of 2005 and I will turn 26 in April next year. 10 years have almost passed now and it does feel rather unreal. Maybe that's why I'm smiling and shaking my head - in disbelief. For all that's happened since then. Since I fell down a dark hole and I haven't been able to climb out of it.

I just kept hitting new bottoms and falling into more darkness, I never had a chance to learn how to live, and somewhere in that maze, I forgot to care. About life, about learning. All that mattered was surviving and sometimes dying, escaping that maze. Now, it's like I've reached another bottom and instead of trying to climb out I've accepted my cruel destiny and I've made myself an almost cosy home down here.

I'm no longer trying to learn how to live or fight for my sorry life. I say let it come and kill me, I don't care. Maybe I'm only still seeing my shrink for outward appearances, to make people believe that I still care about getting better. I can't get better, 10 bloody years down the line, it's fair to say that I'm a hopeless case. I wouldn't know what or who I am without the darkness. Maybe I wouldn't even like that person?

I'm not fighting anymore, but somehow I still don't think I've truly given up. I just let it have at it while I'm taking a forever long cigarette break and just won't go out into battle again. I'm sorry for all the metaphors, I really don't know how else to say it. That I don't care what happens to me now, that this ED, this chronic headache, my self harm and what more and what not, can kill me if they want to. I'm just here for the show. I'm not scared anymore. I'm not scared of dying, I'm not scared of living.

Is that bad? That I'm completely just giving into madness and let it ravage me however it pleases to? Maybe after 10 years I've only come to learn one thing, and that is that it can always get worse. And worse it gets. It's changed me, but I've forgotten who I was before.

Luck and chance

I don't know why I let other people's problems get to me. I have enough problems already. I'm always annoyed with people nowadays. Never compassionate, sympathetic, empathetic or any of those fancy words. Not the slightest glimpse of care. I've gone bitter and selfish. Don't care about anyone's well being except for His. My love, and only him. It's like everyone else have just faded into the shadow, and I walk away from them.

But I'm in his shadow. I'm lingering, just close enough to be noticed, but never too close to a bother. I've been cast into a land of shadows. Cloaking my vision, this lovesickness has impaired me even more. I'm living for that impossible dream, for hopes that will probably never come true. Not in this life, not in this reality.

It's tearing me down, just a little more each time. The smallest thing can make me fly or fall apart, but for every fall I break a little more. I think a miracle needs to happen if I should survive this. I'm waiting, just waiting for something to happen. At this point I don't care which. Die or live, I cannot choose. So I let fate decide it for me. Roll the dice and wish me luck.

Like I said to my mother the other day, about my sleep and all. I said: "I don't want to be awake and I don't want to sleep, so I let my medication decide it for me". It's like I'm on life support, like I wouldn't survive without all those components that keep me together. Pills, psychiatric care, the crew, my parents, my love. Cause the truth is that I don't live for anything: I'm simply alive because of these things.

Unliveable life

I don't know what to say. I feel cold inside. Empty. Apathy has come to stay. I don't know if this a form of depression, but I have a sensation that it could be. My inability to get out of bed. The way everything is hollow, tasteless, dull, empty, colourless, meaningless. I'm still creative though. Still able to draw, write poems, and enjoy playing WoW. But everything is half hearted. It's like I just "have to" do it to get it off me.

Like playing WoW is just a way of making time pass, time that I don't want. All I ever have is time and all I want is for it to go away. Another emotional suicide, killing everything I have inside me, killing all the time I can instead of making it stop permanently. I'm suicidal, but choose to keep on living at the same time as I'm in a way killing my life. Do you understand? I'm killing myself indirectly.

It's killing me. There's so much that is killing me inside. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to endure. I'm filled to the brim with medications, yet I'm just a heartbeat away from being full blown suicidal again. This mess is eating me alive, I become thinner every day, until soon I'm just an empty shell. I'm filling that void with smoke, cause at least there'll be something in there.

It's weird that the more I feel, the emptier I feel. It's like all these emotions extinguish each other. They vaporise before I can catch them and analyse them. But I can tell this pressure from within can't hold much longer. What I want in life I cannot have, and what I have I do not want.

I want to be someone else, a totally different person. Make me his girlfriend, or make me a healthy young adult with his whole life ahead of him, make me loveable and make my life liveable.

Survival without rules

I'm hiding my true feelings even to myself right now. Cause it's better that way. I don't want to feel them, know of them or deal with them. It's heavy enough as it is. Surviving... just focus on that. Eat, sleep, wake up, smoke, pop pills, cut, do whatever is necessary, escape escape escape. Into tv-shows, internet, writing, world of warcraft, anything.

By the way, I've decided to never answer my phone again if it's a secret number calling. Fucking Radiotjänst and telemarketers. Gave me so much anxiety last night, I didn't know what to do with myself. Really, really don't need more of that. In fact my phone rang so many times just a few hours after I had gotten back home yesterday, it threw me into a black hole of despair. Okay, maybe a slight exaggeration, but damn I went furious, anxious, I couldn't deal with it. Starting to hyperventilate and cold sweat after a phone call? Yeah, I guess it would depend on the conversation.

So yeah, welcome home and yada yada. Eventually I fell asleep some time in the early morning, so out of it on drugs I just couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. Falling asleep filled to the brim with anxiety is just as bad as falling asleep right after an argument. Possibly worse. I woke up at ten this morning, but I stayed in bed until three in the afternoon because I couldn't find a reason to get up. And I'm still bummed after that anxiety attack. Reasons to live, wish I had any.

Apathy

I'm still apathetic it seems. I respond to things with thoughts, or words, but not emotionally. Like "oh, that's terrible" or "how adorable" or "that's annoying" but I don't feel sad, happy, angry or anything. It's like I'm trying to tell myself what to feel. I hardly even complain nowadays. It's all just brief statements. And what's up with the short sentences?

If I do feel something, it's just briefly. A few seconds smile, if I get angry it's over so fast my heartbeats don't even increase. Sadness that never creates tears. It's just snap shots.

Yes, I might be a bit over medicated, but usually I can just barely keep my wild emotions in check even with all those drugs. So this isn't because of them. Unless they just suddenly increased massively in strength all by themselves, which is of course highly unlikely, which is my point.

It's weird being back at my parents' place, even though it's just for the weekend. And I slept through all of yesterday, so it feels like I've been here shorter than I actually have. I keep no circadian rhythm, just wake up and go to bed whenever I feel like it. No pressure. Cause I need to stop worry about things that don't matter.

My sleeping pattern really doesn't, you know. Why? Cause it really shouldn't be such a big deal when I sleep or not or for how long. As long as I do sometimes. It's not like I have a schedule to keep up with or something.

Preventing my heart from breaking

Today I've mostly been chain smoking, drinking a lot of tea, consuming chocolate of various kinds. All drugged up on Zyprexa and Sobril, endorphins from numerous self inflicted wounds. Can barely walk or control my muscles and my eyes feel heavy, but sleep is impossible. I'm calmer now though. But it took half my stash of meds to get there.

I haven't felt this numb and empty for as long as I can remember. Maybe I'm in some sort of shock. I can't feel the music, only hear it. I don't get angry, or amused by anything. It's like I've shut down, or a part of me has. But better empty than full of anxiety and sadness, which is what I'm trying to hold back. Maybe holding back a bunch of feelings takes so much energy that no other feelings can emerge in their place. And it leaves me with this empty hole inside of me.

Everything is half-hearted, resistant, hesitant. Maybe I want to be miserable? Maybe I asked for this to happen? I know I thought it. Just so that I could suffer more. Cause this is the only way I know how to feel alive. This week is gonna be a hell to survive.

Love is death

Once again my feelings are killing me, but I hold them back as much as I can, to stop myself from doing something incredibly stupid. But I know that if this won't make me give up, once and for all, I must really be holding on to life this time. But I don't even know why I hold on. When I don't even think anything good will come out of it. I've fallen in love with misery. Isn't it tragic that such a thing had to happen for me to want to stay alive? Maybe I don't even want to be happy, and that's what makes me a hopeless case. But I'm not a case, I'm a person.

So used to being broken, that the thought of not being broken is so far away I can't even imagine it if I try my best. Why should I even? Imagining a life I can never have is like imagining being someone else. Cause I can never be someone else, it's so pointless to dream. Have I finally learned that now? Or will I keep repeating it for as long as I'm alive? I hope that I will have learned it. I'm so tired of making the same mistakes over and over.

I'm so tired of repeating this mistake I promised not to do again. How could I once think that love would heal me, it's done nothing but hurt me. Love is death, it will be the end of me. I just know it. For I promised myself to never fall in love again, and this is where it has led me to. How can emotions be so dangerous? It's just a feeling. The emotions themselves are probably not so dangerous, but when they lead to total self destruction, they are.

My hopes are slipping away, like sand between my fingers. Desperately I try to hold on, clinging to every grain. They're dissolving, evaporating, and blowing away in the wind. I desperately try not to cry, to not let it devour me. One of my worst fears, but it was so likely to happen, and maybe that was why I feared it so much. Yet it isn't too late, it doesn't have to be the end of me. I've seen this happen before, it can still take another turn. It's not impossible. Yet I can't bear it.

This weight in my heart is just too heavy, but the numbness is keeping me alive. I force this sadness and hopelessness down, shove it down back the way it came from. I won't be able to much longer though. Sooner or later it will break out in full strength, and when it does... I don't know, I don't want to think about it. I'll probably tear the place down, I'll probably scream and cry my heart out and tear myself to pieces. But for now I drink my tea and smoke my cigarettes, I'm doing okay.

Finally a change

I haven't even been up for a whole day, yet I feel beyond lethargic and apathetic. I feel broken, hollow, like I'm just a shivering and aching shell. Since I've started sleeping again I've been feeling worse. A lot worse. I can barely focus at all, feel more stupid and thick headed than usually, I can't eat and I'm shifting between being freezing cold and sweaty warm all the time.

Sure these nutrition drinks are a good thing and all, but there's a hole in my stomach that hurts when I'm hungry, eating and full. I'm tired, dizzy, nauseous and I just wanna disappear. But I have no wish to sleep so I don't sleep for as long as I used to. No 30 hours at a time anymore, now it's about 10, which is better I suppose. But I have a feeling it's gonna take time before I get better again.

Sleep deprivation and a messed up circadian rhythm can really fuck you up. Three months and I've reached my breaking point. Luckily, I'm apathetic enough to forget about my hypnophobia somehow. Cause I just do and fuck the rest. Tired and can't stay awake? I just won't then. Scared of sleeping, sure as hell, but I've got bigger monsters to fear.