Yet another theory

Coldness. It can really set loose almost any emotion known to man inside me. Fear, hopelessness, eagerness, hatred, comfort, and right now it's pissing me off. Like: get the fuck warm or I'll do something I'll regret! I realise I'm actually talking to myself sometimes, and not only to Anna. Yes, this is an actual realisation. Maybe I've done that all the time but just didn't realise it until now, but it could be baby steps in trying to think for my own a little. Whatever that could be good for.

She is my emotional support and has been for as long as I can remember, or well, before I couldn't handle my thoughts at all, so in a way it was good that she came along. I've never really doubted that it was good she showed up in the first place, I was a terrible mess by that time. But I do think it might have been good if she had left before she became the problem. My post traumatic stress disorder is only masked by her existence.

I found out, a few months ago, that there is a kind of PTSD that causes dissociation and that is one of my many theories about Anna that in some view could be possible. About an imaginary person showing up right after a trauma, as a type of defence mechanism, and it's closely related to dissociative identity disorder. I'm definitely still fucked up over what happened all those years ago, so dissociation or not, PTSD is more than likely.

But a part of me still believes this is an exceptional thing that is a bit out of the ordinary, and can't really fit into just one particular diagnose. A dissociation wouldn't be permanent, as extended, deeply embed and developed as this. While at the same time a hallucination or a delusion wouldn't be so alike my own thoughts, permanent and constant. Cause I'm absolutely certain this is permanent, we will never become one again. It's like a fictional movie thing about split personality with the vast exception that we coexist as two different people. That is where DID doesn't fit in either. This is a mystery that I just can't let go of, okay?

I think maybe listening to Emilie Autumn sparked my thoughts this time, and reading a bit about her on Wikipedia. Thinking that maybe I should buy her book, cause apparently she wrote one, and it seems it could be interesting.

Green fingers

I'm cold, but not on the outside. Cause it's 22 degrees in here and I'm wearing more fabric than an astronaut in outer space would wear. I'm trying to heat up a coldness that lies beyond skin and flesh, reaches deeper than internal organs, blood and bones. Somewhere in my mind I am being told that I'm not warm enough no matter what I do.

My ivy is just getting bigger and greener every day it seems. I gave it a name and I'm talking it to it as if the plant was a pet. "Muriz", and no it has no particular gender. It is a plant after all. I even stroke its leaves and carefully hug it sometimes. I think maybe my love and care somehow affects it, cause I've never seen ivy's grow and shine like this one before, with leaves bigger than my palms. I've only had it a few months and it's at least twice as big now, and every single leaf is fresh and vividly green.

It doesn't seem to be at all bothered by the cigarette smoke either, which I find rather remarkable, since it can get pretty damn smoky in here sometimes and it almost looks like I'm suddenly in Silent Hill: foggy with ash swirling around.

I suppose me not being able to have pets on my own kinda sparked an interest in plants, as I feel comfort knowing I'm not the only thing alive in this solitude.

So at least I have some form of company, if you could call it that. And I don't feel so alone when I just turn around from the computer and talk to my green, rather quiet room mate. Now I do realise the level of craziness to this, but it almost kinda feels like we're actually communicating in a way. Like the way Muriz thrives is like a response to my awkward cuddling with it (no, not that awkward!)

Whilst I was reading and browsing information about Schizophrenia before, I remember finding out that even that is a trait. Talking to one's plants. Now I'm sure they don't mean "here you go, I have some fresh water for you" kinda talk, but believe me when I say my chatting is vastly more complicated than that. I vary from expressing my admiration of its beauty to telling it jokes and talking to it about how my day has been.

No, I've never doubted that I'm utterly insane, but as of lately it's been almost creeping me out just how much that terrible illness fits me. Always finding out that I experience yet another symptom, finding connections from or to other things in my past or present, and seeing as I more and more fall into weird beliefs and losing my grip on reality. It's like the puzzle of my life is finally starting to connect.

Warm in the cold

I'm trying out a new method for staying awake. Coldness. With windows open for a few hours I've gotten the temperature in my living room down to 14 degrees. Open my robe and take off a sweater. It's quite awful. I think it's working though. The shivering and shaking keeps me from dozing off, or rather being close to. I haven't actually dozed off yet.

I don't shiver, I don't feel cold at all. Just in my hands. I'm sitting in a t-shirt in 14 degrees, the November wind from outside blows in my face, and I don't feel anything, but warm. What's wrong with me? Is this even my body? Something changed, about two hours ago. I almost dozed off and got these weird images and phrases in my head, rapidly moving, as I was still aware of the waken world. I shook out of it, but after that the world felt different, looked different. It still does. Am I asleep? Is this some sort of dissociation? No... I broke my record, I've been up passed 80 hours. For real this time, no miscalculation. Who knows what the hell is going on with my mind, or why I can't feel cold at all when I should be freezing.

I've stopped feeling pain as well. That isn't a good sign either, but it's nice not to hurt any more. If it was winter right now, I bet I could have just walked outside wearing almost nothing and lied down in the snow. I would have, just to see if I could feel it. I don't feel tired either. Too weirded out to even notice such a trivial feeling as "tired" perhaps. I can't understand this, no matter how hard I try. I've pushed myself harder than ever before, and it has led me to a new place. Gotten off a station later with this train. I don't recognise myself, even in the mirror. There's something about my eyes, they look different. I can't really explain what it is I see. Some kind of tense darkness that I can't specify.