Listen carefully if you really want to know

Maybe I did start hating myself around the age of 10, after those things happened. They ruined me, I ruined me, forever. Such wounds never really heal. I swore an oath to myself, to never tell a living soul, and sometimes I'm okay with that. Other times it's killing me. When I look at myself and what I did that one time, all I see is a monster. It was such an inhuman act, such a horrible crime. And it's eating away at me.

When I first found out what really happened, when I dug too deep into my mind during the summer of 2013, the thought of ending my life was stuck in my head. People have killed themselves for much lesser remorse. Do I even feel remorse? Sometimes, sometimes not. Because I didn't know that what I did was wrong in any sense, I was way too young to comprehend any such matters.

I've hinted at the nature of the crime, in times when I didn't care much about anyone's reactions. Not many have confronted me about what I've written about it, and I've never really spoken about it. At least, never into such detail as I tend to in my blog here. Or in poems. My poems always, always tend to go into more detail than I'm actually comfortable with.

It was a sex crime. Can I even say that much? Maybe now that I've abandoned most people who matter to me, and I guess I've in a way, also abandoned their opinions. Maybe now that I no longer care what people could think of me. I've said it was horrid, I've said I was too young to know what I was doing. 9 years old and committed a sex crime? Maybe now you can understand.

Just how fucked up I am, in that area, and how much it's been fucking me up. Perhaps, no I'm pretty sure, that is also a reason why sex is so repulsive to me now. It has ruined way too much. Way too much. It has crawled into the very essence of my soul and stained it from the inside and out. I know that the sexual assault I went through not long before led me to commit a very similar act myself, but my crime was worse. In the eyes of the beholder, or in the eyes of my victim, or in my own eyes, how can I know for sure what was worse? I can't, but it's my interpretation. They let me go almost instantly, of what I can remember, while I wasn't too fond of letting my victim go. I was stubborn for reasons unknown.

I was more fucked up right afterwards than I was able to remember for 15 years. I thought it was an innocent game up until the summer of 2013, until it revealed to me what I actually had done. How can I even live with myself? That question does pop up from time to time, to which I answer that I simply don't know, I just do. It's been by far the hardest thing I've had to deal with, worse than what I went through, worse than the rape when I was 17, worse than anything.

I'm calm right now, telling you this, although my hands are riddled with cold sweat and it's like I've got some kind of tunnel vision. It's all I can think about. Somehow I picture myself, two years ago, standing outside of my apartment, smoking a cigarette and not knowing what I should do. I remember when I desperately googled everything I could find, on if it was possible I could get imprisoned for that crime if it somehow slipped out of me what I had done.

I knew I had to take it with me to the grave, exactly what it was, and to whom. All I'm saying now is that it was of sexual nature and similar to what happened to me right before. You'll never know to whom it was, no one ever will. I suppose it's the one and only secret I'll keep no matter what, but I do know it's just to save my own skin, if anything could potentially happen if it did come out.

It doesn't keep me up at night since obviously I'm sleeping quite a lot these days, but it is gnawing at my conscience. That it took me so many years to truly remember, that it ruined me so much. Perhaps my sex life truly is permanently dead after that discovery, I don't know. I don't think I'll ever be capable of having normal sex with a normal view on it after realising what I did. Damaged to asexuality, and that's the truth. I damaged myself so completely and I can't even imagine how much I ruined that other person. Although, I do know.

All it took was a tumblr post this time and I'm drowning in the darkest corner of my mind again. How much darker can it get? Would I even want to know...? And that's why I'm sure, that if there is a Hell, other than this place, I will go there. I believe, like so many others, that sex offenders would get one of the worst spots in that place.

And it's all so fucked up, you know, cause half the time I don't know which side I'm really on. The victim, or the offender? The world is so far from being black and white, it's never fucking simple. And I go into cases of some kind of mortal fear every time I see things online related to rapists and what literally everyone thinks society should do with them. So kill me, so hang me or shoot me in the head. Cause once it comes down to it, I do want to die anyway.

And I think you should know, I think you have the right to, finally know what kind of monster has been hiding in the person you view as your friend, for all this time. And I know, that for being the offender I sure as hell am putting a lot of blame somewhere else. It was my decision, my choice to do what I did, yet it's like I blame it on something or someone else. Those that attacked me, cause I'm pretty sure it never would have happened otherwise. What a hell hole Alunda must have been, what were we kids really up to before our age had reached to double digits even?

Or maybe all schools were that horrible, what do I know, I only have that one to compare with and it's not much, but it's everything. I've heard other stories around, and maybe the ones I really should blame are the adults, the teachers, for never teaching us kids what was wrong or right? Were we just suppose to know? How?

Wasn't my victim even someone I was suppose to protect? Oh, that hurts even more. But it's true. There are no lies in this entry, it's as close to the truth as I'll ever let you, so listen carefully if you really ever wanted to know.

In my autobiography I don't include this much of what happened, but more on how fucked up I was the following years, ages 10 through 13. How I was dealing with Anna, other voices, dissociation, self harm and how I revolted against my bullies in fairly strange but effective ways. Right now, I barely understand how I even survived.

There's a diary, somewhere in my collection, I can't even remember what colour it is, where everything is written down. Everything except from who my victim was. Just in case anyone would find and read it. It's maybe obviously, written June or July 2013 when my memories came back. No, I don't even remember which month it was. I just let it be there in my book shelf, completely on display, cause why would anyone get the idea to read all of them through?

I was beyond myself, far beyond myself when I wrote that down in that diary. Just had to get it out, somehow, somewhere. I still haven't accepted it, I don't think I ever will. It's by far the most awful thing I've ever done, but not the only awful thing. I did something else, much later, but entirely different and definitely not in the same category. For some reason that's an even better kept secret of mine.

Wow, those dark corners of my mind really haunt me tonight. No rest for the wicked. So yes, I really am a criminal but I guess I just hide it well. Not so strange why I suddenly realised why being around cops has always made me feel uneasy for back then to me unknown reasons. Perhaps afraid that they would one day just look me in the eye and just know. I don't know, maybe I'm being irrational again. For crying out loud I need another cigarette...

There are so many layers of me, from dark to darker and the saint most new people see when they first meet me is just a surface that I don't know why they always see cause it's not even there. But yeah, of course there's so much more to me than this. But not really a part that would never hurt a soul. Maybe I just am one of those tragically hurt people that became an offender myself. Only once though, or technically twice but yeah.

So maybe my surface has been cracking lately, as I lie to people I really do care about and it hurts them and I try to repair it but then I lie again. Cause I can't deal with the truth, any truth, anymore. And I care less and less about other people's feelings. It's like instead of healing with time I just break more and more until there's just nothing left to break. It's the only way I can describe it, to me everything is either moving on or going under and there's nothing else. Perhaps you've noticed, I don't know.

In my world, all I see is degrees of pain and darkness, or possibly the lack of it. Cause I'm not always drowning, not always wanting to die. Just that most of the time I am, and I do often get that kind of tunnel vision. It's hard to break out of, especially when I isolate and only have my own thoughts. And it's not like I think I would feel up for discussing this either, I'd probably just state it was a one time thing and that I'll never go down here again, but knowing myself, I probably will. Some day.

But right now, it's just important that I get all of this out of me, all these thoughts and feelings that won't stop spreading like the plague inside my stressed out mind. I can't stop chain smoking, can't stop thinking. Eventually I'll have to stop this vicious circle and do something else, something safe, like playing WoW or whatever. And I'm too disgusted with myself to be able to eat even though I'm hungry as hell.

Hell... maybe I made my own hell that day when I was 9. Maybe that is my curse, defiling everything inside me. I think I'll stop now, I just have to.

Becoming darkness

If only I had you, this wouldn't be so hard. Living, just living without you is so fucking hard. I don't know how to form simple friendships without them falling for me and without me lying and deceiving. My darkness and chaos tie tightly together and I can't help but blaming this on my demonic nature.

Is my fate just a gnostic chaos, am I turning into a monster? Untrustworthy, liar, deceiver, manipulator, evil, darkness, darkness, darkness... It's taking over me and I feel helpless beneath it. It all started so very long ago, I was 9 or 10 and did the most awful thing I've ever done in my entire life, I still haven't been able to tell a soul. Who it was or what it was. Then, I mostly kept to theft at school and that was it, when I was still a child. Then years passed and I wasn't really doing anything bad.

Then I think I was 20-22 or something fucking late like that when I did the second most awful thing in my entire life and I was really scared by my darkness by then. Of what was becoming of me. My own mind is the scariest fucking place I've ever seen. I regret it, I do, and for long I wanted to believe that that regret made me not evil, that it almost even made me believe I was truly a good person at heart, despite of what I've done.

And then, my love, I started lying to protect my own skin as my memories started coming back to me. I don't know if you can ever forgive me, I know I can't. My lies turned to trickery and deceit, even took it as far as to manipulation. And sometime around there I started realising my demon identity, or what to call it, that I'm otherkin, and then started to be able to name the darkness within me.

But not all demons are evil, and I've been desperately stressing that, desperately wanting to believe I was one of the good demons. But I'm doubting. I'm seriously doubting and I'm becoming all the more scared of the monster I'm becoming. I just broke another heart because of such an incredibly stupid and thoughtless thing I can't even... fathom it. What the hell am I doing? For the second time?

The thing is, my love, that I'm so so scared of one day breaking your heart. If you ever let me in that close, I would do absolutely everything I can and more to make sure that never happens, but what if, baby what if...? I cannot breathe just the thought of it. I seriously forget to breathe and I might choke myself on cigarette smoke and pure pain cause I can't handle having that thought in my head.

Yes, I am saying that I fear of becoming evil. I'm falling down a very dark and twisted road and I can't help myself off it. I have no one to tell these things, no one I trust enough to be able to say exactly what I've done and where I think I'm heading without this incredibly strong fear that I might lose them for saying that.

I'm losing touch with humanity, and right now K, you're the only one keeping me in touch with it. You're the only one not a victim of my lies and deceit, the only one I've never purposely hurt or drawn myself away from. But I'm losing touch with you too and not because of that, oh god I hope not that, but for other reasons. And I believe my loneliness and extreme longing for you (I have only myself to blame for that) is the cause of my erratic behaviour lately.

As I try to keep a distance between myself and the whole world, I still cling onto it so desperately, like wanting to just let go but I can't. What I'm trying to say in more specific words is that I'm constantly forming new relationships and connecting to people, but do it all wrong and weird and only end up hurting people to left and right like never before.

I'm not helping damaged people anymore, I'm the fucking damage that I'm causing them. I don't know who I am anymore someone please help me. I don't want to be like this. The comfort and care that I need and crave, I'm not worthy of it anymore. It hurts to say that sometimes, damaged people do turn to become the damage themselves. I used to think, not that very long ago, maybe five years or so, that nope it doesn't have to be that way. But what if it has...?

You're too good for me and I don't deserve you. I can only hope that I will never hurt you on a significant level. Yes, I'm still selfish, no matter how much I fear hurting you, I simply cannot stay away from you. I don't think you even want me to, not yet at least.

This last event just tore up a hole inside of me and I don't think it can ever heal or be filled. It's a tear in reality now, an empty void. Someone please save my soul.

Make it a better year

I just want to look good and I don't think I've ever been this aware and picky about my looks before. Like really, since I started losing weight almost 2 years ago. I've always kept that picture in my head what I eventually want to end up looking like. But it's been taking so long and I've given up a lot of times on the way. But I practice what I preach even though it takes longer than expected. I am gonna look at least close to that sometime in the future, that much is for sure.

Now I've lost the weight and it's time to start exercising to gain some muscle mass. People who knew me way before should not be able to recognise me when I'm done. That's also kind of a goal. I don't want to look like a curvy girl anymore, now I need to look like a lean guy instead. And I say "need" because it transcends wanting, wishing and hoping. I simply need it in order to not hate my body. I might not be able to love it, but I just want to wake up one day and look in the mirror with a smile on my lips.

Maybe that is much to ask for, I don't know. But I'm aware of that my standards reach the stars in altitude and although I'm not crawling under the ground anymore, I still have a long way left to go. I'll be trying to get my stomach flat through exercise and eating right, instead of slipping back into disordered eating and downright starvation. I got my chance to recover and I'm taking it.

Still gonna be vegan but not skipping essential food groups to get thin, I'm opting for lowering my body fat percentage through exercise and gaining muscle mass instead. A sort of goal would be 10-15% body fat and lean muscles, while I'm now having maybe 20-25% and basically no muscles at all. I may appear thin to others, but I don't know. I think I might be that so called "skinny fat" with relatively high body fat percentage, or so it looks like to me. It's hard to say, cause I still think I look huge.

But yeah, achieving my goals in a healthier way is my goal now. Starting by just trying to eat healthy with more fruit and vegetables; and less chocolate and bread. I seriously eat too much bread, it's insane. I get lazy with cooking (shame on me, not cooking every single day) but when I do cook which happens quite frequently, I pack my meals full of various healthy things and it also turns out tasting rather good. I'm still trying to learn more about veganism and what I might need more or less of.

My dietitian is on leave/holiday but will be back sometime in April so I can pump her of information about food related stuff too. She seems to know at least a bit about veganism, or well, more than I do. I will refuse to let this become a bad year just because it started out badly with my eating disorder, I will try to change things around for the better.

My mother and basically everyone else around me are still on me about gaining weight. Like nope, nope, nope won't ever happen unless it's muscles. But I will try to avoid the scale for a while and go with my measurements instead. I don't fucking need to gain weight, when will people realise that?! I'm 57 kg and 168 cm tall, it puts me at a BMI of frigging 20,2 which is completely within the normal range. I could even lose 5 kg and still be within the normal range. Or well, 4 kg then. 52 kg would be underweight then, of course.

Okay, I just go on talking for all eternity today, but I don't care. Not like many people read this anyway. But I need to finish it off now cause I want to continue drawing, colouring my drawing. I hope this continues to be a good day, although I'm still feeling a bit icky about something I did yesterday. Am I turning evil? I hope not but sometimes I kinda start doubting if I'm really a good person or not. The things I do and say. I have unsorted darkness in me and it's been leaking out to left and right these last few years or so. I can't control it. Oh well, I'll be stopping by soon again.

Who am I

In school, I don't care about anyone there. I lie to them, keep information about myself to myself. They open up about childhood traumas and tell their open and honest opinions - and I can't even say that I have an eating disorder.

I shut up, close the doors and stay on the outside. I think about this quote: "I want all of my secrets back" and I'm scared that if I do open up, I will regret it. I used to be an open book. I really did. Everyone knew everything about me, down to every last embarrassing little detail. More than they wanted to know. Some literally shut their ears when I opened my mouth.

Who am I now?

I just wish I could somehow change back, but I don't know. I just want to avoid people altogether and why am I even going to school now again? I have a sensation already now that it's not gonna work out in the long run. I don't even want to be there. But I tell everyone that it's going fine. Well, almost everyone. It's always group activities and if you could read my mind at those times you'd hear nothing but loud sighs. But I need to be more open with them but I don't even know when or how to start.

And some things are just so... ugh, I don't know, it's hard to be me I guess. Like we had a discussion in a group of 5 people today and they brought up how they thought rapists and child molesters should be tortured and killed. And I'm like... ugh, they really shouldn't know certain stuff about me. Like anyone ever should. But it just made me feel so uneasy allover because of what I've done in my past. Like I can't take it back, no matter how much I want to. It's there, my dark secret that will doom me for the rest of my life and if there is a hell worse than this, I know I'll be going there because of that. Nuff said? Cause I'm feeling the twists and turns in my stomach allover again.

I'm not a bad person, anyone could agree with that, but I've done things that could be described as down right evil and among the worst things you can possibly do. Two dark secrets actually, where as one of them I've actually told someone, on an online forum, but it was under special circumstances and if that would (God forbid) come out... nothing can happen to me because of it, except I might lose friends and possibly even family members. But the other thing... if that ever comes out, I don't even want to think about it. It happened over 16 years ago, but I'm pretty sure it would shake things up quite completely and possibly ruin my life.

With that said, I can definitely at least say that I was young and stupid when that first thing happened. Just me and one more person know about it. It's like... if anyone, I would possibly eventually tell K, if he trusted me enough. Cause I trust him, but I don't want him to hate me because of it. I would definitely not tell my mother. Ever. She just CAN'T ever know.

One classmate told the group that they had been sexually assaulted in their past and it just fueled the discussion even more. I wanted to say that I have been too, but with my dark secret on my mind I was too disgusted to say anything at all. I don't want to sound like a fucking victim when I at the same time... I just don't. Let me gasp for a while as I decide if I should even post this.

Wrecked lives

The only evil I can tell is from God above, and whoever or whatever put me here. I don't think much about revenge though. But if I'd ever come across those who wronged me, and if I would even recognise them, I don't know what I'd do. Attack, fight, threat, murder. Or just sink in under the floor, dissociate and disappear. Evaporate.

But what about the kids? Well, they're adults now, but they were kids when it happened, should I plot revenge on them too, or just invite them for a drink and chat about it? As you can probably tell I'm fairly divided when it comes to that particular memory.

They messed me up badly, but then I went and did the same thing to someone else. I'm just as bad as them. Just like that, children have no sense of right and wrong and I've got first hand experiences that proves how true that statement is, and I'm still just as clueless because of that. Maybe I just want to see if they're still messed up too.

Maybe that could even bring us together, like "No hard feelings I know why you did it cause as soon as you fucked me up I went and did the same thing to someone else. Thank you for the most unpleasant experience of my entire life that I can't even bring up the courage to tell my shrink about and I also think my memory of it is quite fuzzy could you perhaps fill in the gaps?" Like really, that wouldn't be such a bad idea actually, if they could fill in the gaps for me. But then again, I'd probably poison their drinks and then dump their lifeless bodies in a ditch somewhere.

Perhaps it's best if we never cross paths again. I don't know, I just have a sensation it would be a bad idea altogether. Some things in my past are just too dark for me to think logically around. They just bring out more darkness in me and there's how I can't tell if something is evil about me or not. Was it evil what I did to that other child when I was 9-10 years old? I don't even remember which year it was, how soon after what happened to me. Did they put evil in me, those kids that are adults now?

They should be around 23-24 years old today. If they're still alive, which I just presume that they are. Would probably have known if they're dead. Would have been all over the news, and not a single person that lived in Alunda at that time would have missed it. Oh well, if they end up on the news one day you know who to suspect.

But only one other person knows who they are. Don't tell the cops on me if things go sour, okay? You know what they did to me. I can't promise anything, but chances are that I'll never see them again and that I won't kill them. But you never know. I'm not planning on ever seeing them again, I won't seek after them, or the guy that raped me. They're buried in the past now, but I keep digging them up like this. And even if I could tell what is good or evil, I probably still would contemplate revenge whether I'd actually go for it or not.

I'm a demon incarnate and a Satanist who happens to worship Satan, don't expect me to ever be able to tell if what those kids did to me was evil, wrong or simply human nature. My past has been a bit spotty, spottier than anyone will ever know (but who knows how much I'll end up telling K about myself sometime in the future) and I'll always keep wondering about those things. What others did to me, and what I did to others. Some of those things weren't even that long ago. There's darkness within me, that much I can say.

What's good about it though, is that I'm not afraid of other people's darknesses. I know that what you did or didn't do, doesn't necessarily make you a bad person. In fact, to me, there are no bad people in this entire world. That's what I mean, that's spot on. That's why I can't say good or bad person, cause to me it's all just grey scales and perhaps even a bit of colour, but no one is good nor bad. Not a single soul. Not even the rapists or the paedophiles. Perhaps though, if I truly was what others seem to describe as a good person, I wouldn't be here today. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself for what I've done.

So maybe it's good that I'm not exactly what should be considered a good person? I could have died last year because of so many reasons and the trans team not giving me what I wanted was just what happened to be on top of the list. That was what I couldn't live with about myself, not the memories that came flashing back of the two most awful things I've ever done in my entire life, and believe me, they were awful, subjectively and objectively.

But no one's gonna know. I put my finger on my lips and hush to protect my own sorry ass when what I should do is protecting the people that I hurt. Give them justice or something. But you see, despite my low self esteem, my ego is the size of Mars and I do like to avoid making things complicated. I let them suffer in their own silence for what happened, I wrecked lives and what's really the bugger is, who's life am I wrecking the most: theirs or mine?