My dreams, a two-way communication

I screwed up my sleep pattern by daytime-napping cause I was too upset to stay awake. I don't care. But I had a dream, that I think it reflected really a lot about me.

I was with my old school class from 2014-2016. We had been split into two groups. The leader of the group, a guy who in real life is calm, kinda dreamy and very compassionate, Bosse, was with the half of the group that I went with. He drove us to a beachy area but there was no water in sight, as in lake or ocean. It was just a beach and some forest around, but we were promised we'd go swimming at some point. We were some 5-6 people in total, in that group, and it was all very chill and calm. We spread out towels on the sand to relax on and talked calmly to each other, mostly about our packing as it was our first day there. I think we were meant to spend 2 or 3 days there.

I got bored very quickly and when the sun started to go down, I needed to pee. I knew that we were actually in the upper floor of a two store house, someone's home. And I knew that on the first floor was the second half of our school class, their group led by the much more enthusiastic, energetic, "go getter", quick-thinker yet also very compassionate teacher Åsa. The only bathroom was downstairs, so I thought nothing of it as I went down to take a leak.

But then I noticed something that got me both andry and jealous. They had a party down there! With lots of other people invited. I was intrigued and thought "if only I had known I would have gone with this group instead" and decided to wander around a bit there, kinda pretending to just be one of all the guests, but also thinking it's probably no issue that I'm lurking around there since we're the same school class and I couldn't imagine it was somehow meant to be a secret. Especially considering both groups shared the same bathroom.

Then I ran into Åsa who found me lurking around. She noticed I was in distress when our eyes met, so she took me aside. She wondered what was wrong, looking clueless and caring. I told her I may be a very calm person and all but I would have preferred being in the party group instead of the beach group. I told her I wasn't told the groups would be different and that I was angry the teachers had just assumed which group would be right for me.

Then I started to wake up and the dream got increasingly less coherent but still having that conversation with Åsa. So I think it officially ended there, that dream.

That dream reflects so much of many of my real life situations. How people so easily misunderstand me and assume stuff about how I appear to be as a person, and not even asking. Not just in terms of parties, but what this dream was built on, the concept of it, was eerily realistic. Especially Åsa's reaction, and Bosse just being super chill about it all like "of course I was in the right group!" And I meantion their real names cause I don't think it matters but I mentioned their actual personalities because that was a very important aspect of the dream. The caring but aloof Bosse of course wanting to protect me by putting me in the calm group that of course he's leading. And the energetic, quick-thinker Åsa of course going with the party group and just "didn't think about" even asking me cause the assumption happened so easily and went by everyone. They both made the same assumption, but for different reasons and from different sides of the calm vs party coin. It was well-meant but if someone had just thought to ask me... That has followed me so much in my life. Exactly that kind of scenario, just dressed up differently.

My gender situation was strange in that dream. Judging by how I thought of myself, my choice of clothes and the things I brought with me for that trip, I was clearly living as a woman... but I think for everyone else there I was still a male-presenting man, cause that's how I was when I went to that school in real life. That's interesting to me cause I think it was my mind showing me as a woman to myself cause that's what I'm comfortable with now, but it had to show me as a man to everyone else in the dream for it all to make sense. It wasn't adressed much, only when I tried to discuss swimwear with another classmate and I clearly spoke of women's swimwear which made the classmate.... glitch? It was as if she didn't register or understand it when I said "swim suit" (in Swedish that's the word "baddräkt" for women's one-piece swimwear) as if that was something I wasn't supposed to say cause it made the program glitch! Like that classmate expected me to say "swim shorts" instead and couldn't comprehend the feminine alternative. Also a few people in the dream referred to me as "John" but only once or twice, I think. The name Laura, or my birthname, did not come up at all.

So that was a new, rather strange thing that my dream mind did there, but I really appreciate the kind compromise to spare me of too much dysphoria. Sometimes I wonder if my subconscious mind is another entity of its own. Cause it almost kind of acts as if it's another consciousness, with how it communicates with me. But I think in actuality the subconscious isn't meant to be quite so directly interactive with one's conscious mind, but since I've found pretty much a "communication system" to keep in direct contact with my subconscious, I notice it acting in pretty fascinating, unusual ways that I don't recognise within my conscious and that's what makes me feel like my subcon is like another person altogether.

It's a bit like communicating with a highly intelligent, but bewildered person who doesn't speak and has an animalistic body language, but you notice they're actually incredibly smart once you've found ways to communicate with them. And they start showing you all the amazing things that's going on in their mind, and they want to get to know you too. They show you compassion and even love. Everything they do and how they do it is very strange and foreign to you, but you know that and don't judge them, and you're always patient and caring with them. That builds a very strong, special bond.

Also, daytime-napping is always when my subcon gets extra talkative with me. That's when I get extra intense dreams with deeper meaning. But this thing with my subcon compromising with my real life wishes... is totally new. I earlier, few weeks ago, also realised that my subcon has showed me having my ideal body in my nightly dreams almost every single time, since detransitioning. That is also, I think, something very special. It's just a theory, but I think what this could be, is my own mind rewarding me for my hard work with healing from my traumas and finding self-love, forgiving myself, etc. But it is definitely a sign of deeper communication with my subcon, beyond it just sending me dreams and whatever things that I specifically NEED... cause now it's additionally sending me things that I WANT, simply out of care and compassion. Isn't that amazing, and beautiful?

And yes, I'm really happy about that my mind literally lets me live out my dream body in my nightly dreams. The two different meanings of the word "dream" are mixing together a little bit. I can have dreams (as in things I deeply wish for) in my (nightly) dreams! It also lets me get a clearer image of what I even think of is my "dream body" and it's actually highly realistic. It is the way I actually look, but with big reconstructed boobs, a smooth hairless body and no facial hair, and the way my body shape looked before I took testosterone meaning just slightly narrower waist and slightly wider hips. That's a totally realistic goal to have. It lets me get a feel for what living with my body shaped and looking that way could be like. Although it's not the same as "trying it out for real" I think it's still good. But the very, very best part about that is of course not having any dysphoria in my dreams.

That right there tells me that my subcon REALLY cares about me and my mental well-being. It wants to cut me a break from my horrible feelings in the awake world, of dysphoria, grief, regret, and all that pain and suffering that comes with it. Likely because I finally dared to face all those true feelings that I always carried within myself but used to bottle so hard and far away that I hid them from myself and denied their existence. My subcon wants to make me feel good and to be relieved of that pain I otherwise constantly have to carry around and be weighed down by. I think my part of the deal is to not turn to sleeping or staying in bed all the time. My dysphoria-free dreams are my reward, not something I'm meant to replace actual life with. Then I think I'd lose that reward, if I tried that.

That's really quite remarkable if you think about it, isn't it? My subcon offered me a gift with one condition and I took the deal. And we both keep our end of the deal. Well, it fascinates me, that's for sure! For it being my subcon, I sure am very conscious of it. I used to think we didn't speak the same language, but we do. We just speak it in different ways. So yes, it is possible to find ways to communicate and understand each other. I think it has been the goal of my subcon all along, for me to understand the messages it sends me. And now, after many years of having tried to interpret and understand it, I still don't fully 100% understand it, but I know which ways it works and I do have a basic understanding of how it communicates. And now I've gotten so far with it that we're even making deals with each other! That's like... wow, just wow.

My nightly dreams have changed in one more way, by the way, since my detransing. When things "go wrong" in my dreams, such as people fighting me or I get lost or am chased or whatever, I don't fight it. It's not lucid dreaming, it's me trusting my own mind. It's me letting it play out the scenarios as it intends for them to be, without fighting or trying to change them cause I get scared. Even in the dreams where I think it's real, some inkling withing me stops me and goes kinda "hang on, I need to trust this won't harm me". And I'm pretty sure that too has strengthened the bond and communication between my subcon and my consciousness. Cause I'm not fighting its messages.

Can my subcon integrate with my conscious mind? Well, I think that's what's gradually happening, so yes I think it's possible... but can it be integrated fully? As in, I'm conscious of all aspects of my mind, and I in a sense don't have subconscious anymore because of having become fully aware and a part of it. That I kinda doubt, but we'll see, I guess! I wouldn't say it's my "goal" but I am working towards it. My goal is to understand myself better and have a good connection and comunication between my conscious mind, my subconscious mind and my physical body. But I don't have an "end goal" with it. As cheesy as it may sound, the journey, and the direction, is my goal.

Silver sky

Reap the dreams that cannot be
some are fragile and linger hastily to be free
drawn upon the sky like silver dust
blow on them gently if you must

Awaiting the last prayer to reach the limit
bending at the horizon, to slowly dim it
yearning like a last drawn out howl against the moon
my echoes stray but they leave too soon

All of my heartbeats gathered up into one
I said it's for a final spurt, not the whole run
I'm yearning to meet his eyes, distracted by the light
too scared to close in, I'm haunted by my night

Of all the stages I've folded to reach the center of my heart
there's too many corners, hesitating at every start
oh, but how did I come to this point and reach this far
standing on a porch with him as we're filling our lungs with tar

See through my pain only to find more
and in my desire a fever for his forbidden lore
my wanting hesitantly wrapping around our pre-existing bond
failing to understand the implications of what lies beyond

I nearly reach out, so weakened by my own leaning
but pull back at last second; all words have their meaning
and I cry inconsolable for the dreams that cannot be
cruelly they linger hastily, awaiting to be set free

And in my silence I stare into the void
at all the dreams I've already destroyed
now they're all drawn upon the sky like silver dust
so gaze upon their graveyard if you must

With my heart on the edge

I still miss him, but I don't know what to say here. If I start writing about him and what's been up, he'll definitely know it's him if he reads this. If he doesn't already know, that is. But yeah, I'd say things are going in the right direction now.

I don't even know why I'm so scared of him possibly finding out that it's him, but I think it's because I want him to know for sure first, that I tell him face to face. And not for him to read this and think "oh shit, it's me" and then possibly never talk to me again.

It's become complicated for me to figure how just how much I wanna share with the world. But I don't want to leave it out entirely. Does that make any sort of sense? That I'll just give you vague hints that something new is up but I don't want to say what it is. Sorry for that.

Well, I want you to know but at the same time I don't. I'm not making any sense, I'm tipsy and a bit ecstatic. For the first time ever, I notice something has changed for the positive in all this. It gets my hopes up.

I'm so curious about him, it's like I wanna know everything. Usually I'm all about talking about myself, but now it's more like I wanna talk about him, with him, instead. Make him the centre of attention instead of myself. He's such an inspiration to me. Like I take tips and advice from him, wanna look like him, do what he does and so on. Trying not to get triggered by the not so good things he does and feels. But I'm easily triggered by anything these days.

All of this is a bit weird for me. This new kind of way I feel love for him. That I've never loved anyone else like this before. He's so fucking awesome, I don't know what kind of magic he uses on me! Seriously, this is insane, what I'm feeling. So incredibly strong, so crude and almost unnatural. Unnatural, because how is it even possible that I love him so much?

I wish I could fall in love the way normal people do. How is that exactly? I don't know. Maybe I just want it to be mutual. I want what you see in movies; where you meet and hit off, then one thing leads to another and you slowly develop stronger feelings for one another until you one day say "I love you". I want that. I crave it so much it hurts sometimes.

Sometimes I wish I could fall out of love with K so that I could start over. Get to know him, see if there's any interest back and then fall in love again if there is a spark. Does that sound weird? Cause I don't want to be with or love anyone else. No matter how likeable another person I come across may be. No matter if a wonderful person suddenly would come into my life and be interested in me.

I've made my choice, but alas, I can't control my crazy heart. No matter how much I'd like to. I want to tell it that it cannot ever love anyone else, tell it that this is enough, enough heartbreaks and enough pain.

Hell is living without you

This joyride cannot last if I can't find a way to hold on to it. It's been two months and all I do is sit on my ass cause I'm afraid I'll break down again if I got up. And I don't know what I want to do. I'm afraid that I might not want anything at all. There's the war in my heart as well, that as long as my only wish is to be with K it's not gonna be easy to find something else to aim for, if you know what I mean.

I've been in this situation before, when all I see is that one person and they are my whole world. Blinded, so totally blinded by love for someone who is or might as well be unobtainable. If only I lived closer, then it would be easier. Even if he isn't interested, it would be easier still. Easier to meet, to talk and to know where things are going.

This is more like an internet crush, just that "crush" isn't exactly the right word for how I feel. But living so far away, it's not like I'm in love with someone I can just meet to hang out with on a Wednesday afternoon for a chat and a coffee or whatever. We can't even meet up as friends, class mates or colleagues, go partying together or just pass each other by on a street on our separate ways to somewhere.

I'm locked inside my computer. Cause no matter where he is, I know he always comes back online and there is where I am. And there I always am, staring at his pictures, waiting, hoping, dreaming, longing. I can never be further, I can never be closer.

So how much of a chance could I really have? My dream would be a long distance relationship, or that I could move in with him or he moves in with me. Probably that I would move in with him, since I don't really have any connections here on Gotland, but then he would have to take care of me cause I'm in need of LSS and that crap which I won't be likely to get in Stockholm over night. I've always wanted to live in Stockholm, by the way. The big city where everything happens. Where he is.

Yes, I've thought about that too. But my dream is killing me. I don't like dreaming, I hate dreaming, cause the dreams never come true. They are just painful, haunting me like a cruel joke. It's a curse, dreaming. I learned that from early on, that dreams can only be shattered, but I can't stop. I love him so damn much it's just not true, how can it be? I don't even know him that well. I don't understand my complicated heart, it just does whatever it wants and it always gets me into trouble. But I would do anything to be with him, anything.

I would leave this wonderful apartment that I can almost call my home in a heartbeat, I would stop being a Satanist, I would spend all the money I have, I would move to another country or I would even quit smoking for good. I'm not just throwing around those words, I know what they mean, I know what I mean. How much he means to me. He is my world.

I just remembered, that when I started to fall for him last spring, and knew I couldn't resist anymore. The thoughts of him steadily increased and after several tries of not falling in love with him I asked myself: wouldn't life be a little better if I was in love?

Truth

I've been more truthful than ever in this blog recently. It's not that I owe you that, it's just that I'm tired of polishing the real stories in a way so that they would sound better somehow. I'm complicated. I'm really fucking complicated and most things in my life are odd, ended up unexpectedly and don't quite fit the way they're supposed to have been.

For example. My transsexualism. I was never very masculine or boyish as a child. I didn't like playing with boys toys even though I was in fact offered them. My mannerism wasn't that of a boy's, it was awkward and on the girly side. Though I wanted to be a boy, I wanted it more than what I actually was. I envied other boys, but I didn't think of myself as one. I saw that I was a girl and I just simply hated it. It was more of a wanting. A strong, very sincere wanting that never left me.

It wasn't until my late teens that I started to feel that I never quite was a girl, it wasn't until I tried too hard to be a girl. I tried so hard at the end that I ended up looking and feeling like a total drag queen. When the high heels and short, revealing skirts just didn't sit right anymore. Sometimes after I came out I tried to perform, pretend that I wanted to pass when I really didn't care. All I ever wanted was a masculine body, a dark voice and a man's name. Well, I started to crave more along the way though. I'm not saying that I'm not transsexual, all I'm saying is that I'm a bit of a wildcard. Unusual, as with most other things, I'm not the typical transsexual. I've hid things like that, afraid I wouldn't be taken seriously.

Now that was just an example. I can't bring up everything, not at once at least. But I do want to, and I have thought it through. Especially now, people can't take things back from me. Things like that in that example that I cannot live without. I couldn't live without the treatment for my transsexualism, you know that. I fought for it so desperately for five years after I started out when I was 20.

I'm no any longer afraid that people will question how genuine I really am with this, all I have to say is that I threatened with suicide and tried to kill myself 4 times in less than a week because I couldn't get the treatment. I would of course have chosen a more fatal technique if it wasn't for that little inconvenience that I was locked inside a psychiatric ward, and most likely would have succeeded if I did. So it wasn't just an act of desperation to get them to take me seriously, it was real.

All of this, it's real. No, I don't think that you doubt that. You should know me pretty well by now. But I know there are people who would, if I would come clean like that. Oh well, enough sadness and despair for now. I will bring up more later, though there will of course always be things I'd rather keep to myself. Now if I could only remember how to stop writing... seriously, I've been writing non stop for about three hours now. That landed me on 3758 words for today. Hepp.

Wishes and wisdom

I just saw this episode of Torchwood, one of them that I remembered most vividly from the first time I saw the whole series. In that episode there's a device that can show you glimpses of the past, the future or your own death. It just shook me so strongly this time, something Jack said, but I can't remember it now. I remember thinking that was a cool device to have first time I saw that episode years ago, but now... all I could think of is all the despair such a device could bring mankind.

Perhaps I am too old for this young body, cause I always seem to recognise myself the most in fictive characters who are way old, immortal. Characters like Jack Harkness, vampires, wizards, ghosts and so on. I don't even know if I'm that wise or anything, it's more of a vague sensation. That I know stuff I'm not supposed to, like I know too much, about things a 24 year old shouldn't.

I wouldn't consider myself that old, not in my mind at least. It's more like I've transcended age completely and now I'm neither young nor old, beyond time. And maybe that's why I my conception of time is so fucked up, why I take things so slow and can keep calm in situations others panic over. It's like I just know without knowing what it is that I know; does that make any sort of sense at all? That things will sort themselves out eventually and turn out the way they're supposed to, no matter what you do.

Those things that I know I don't know how to share, because either no one's listening, or it's something they have to find out for themselves. Mostly it's the latter, and some things I don't want anyone else to find out. Not that I want to keep anyone in the dark about it, it's just that it's most likely too much to handle. You know I've been struggling with it. The meaning of life, how I'm gonna die, things about how time works, memories from past lives and so on.

I'm divided, if I would want to keep my knowledge as it is or to never have gained it in the first place. It's an awful burden, yet a wonderful gift. Not very comforting and terribly upsetting. But also an asset and helpful in understanding the world and to accept it as it is.

Some things I have already accepted. Like that life is unfair and that I can't possibly stop myself from killing myself that one day when it will happen, hopefully far in the future. So yeah, I think I have accepted my self fulfilling prophecy, cause there's really no way around it. Somedays it's hard though, thinking that it's like I'm trapped in a maze with only one horrible way out of it. Cause how can I make myself die in another manner than suicide? I can't. My fate is sealed. So why not accept it?

I'm finally gonna try and live my life to the fullest at the best of my ability. I'm gonna get my gender reassigned legally, finish writing my autobiography, change the way I look, get my damn tattoos even if I'll need to steal money to afford them, drive a car, travel to London and all the little things on that endless list of things to do before I die.

Everyone should do that, no matter if you are/think you are going to die sooner than you hope for or not. Everyone should try their best to live their lives to the fullest. I'll hit you if you don't agree with me on that point! I just hope I'll actually do it this time, but I think so, cause never before has it felt this real. The cruelty of the prophecy and the vitality of life itself awakening within me. I think it's a good balance, as good as it can get. That I want to live and that more than ever, at the same time as I'm terrified to die before I'm done living, if you know what I mean. Life and death is cruel and unfair, but I can't let that ruin me. I can hope and dream, carefully so, but I can't change what's beyond me.

I just hope that I'll be able to continue like this, with this urge in me to change things to the better, with a will to live instead of just a will to escape anything related to living in the real world. Just wish that I won't fall back into the darkness.

The inevitable

I'm still without painkillers and it's working fine. I'm more careful with my movements which is probably good regardless if it hurts or not. It doesn't hurt that bad, at least not when I'm idle. It's hardly more noticeable than my headache, it's actually almost like they're competing with each other.

When I was seeing my doctor today I also got to meet my new "contact person" rather forced upon me, within the mental health care department, something odd struck me. That contact person said something about that I should try to slowly "let go of" my mother. As if I was clinging to her (do I?) because she won't live forever. And it just suddenly struck me, that I think she knows, and I think we both have a mutual, but very silent, understanding that I won't outlive my mother.
It's not something anyone of us can know until the day comes when one of us dies. But it's more of a sensation of sorts. Like yeah, I've survived three serious and twelve half assedly suicide attempts in less than ten years... I'm not gonna just snap out of it and live to 80. My suicide risk is extremely high. You can't just take that out of the equation and give me false hopes about getting better and live a long and happy life ever after, as that contact person of mine supposedly tried to. This is me being clinical about it, just so you know. I'm still rather euphoric since the surgery, I'm just talking out of perspective. (Euphoria, isn't that like the opposite of dysphoria? How interesting.)

During the car ride from Visby after the meeting my mind started to wander again. As the rain fell hard against the wind shield for 38 minutes, I fantasised about driving myself. That I had once, not so long ago, told my mother that one day I will drive a car, whether I'll have a driver's licence or not. And the thoughts led me to summer. That I might not have so long left and I don't want to waste time anymore. I have for a long time now felt as if I'm living on borrowed time, like I'm being chased by the inevitable with the number 27 etched into my mind, knowing it's only two or three summers left.

But enough about my death. In my fantasy I had stolen my mother's car, drunk half a bottle of rum (or something like that) and driven full speed ahead through the dusty streets on Gotland this summer. Cause why go easy when you can break a few more laws while you're at it? I've had that fantasy for so many years now, and of all my dangerous and illegal fantasies this one could actually come true and not cost me the rest of my life. Just stay away from cops and speed cameras.

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.

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.

Even in dreams

In a dream tonight I accidentally set my bed on fire, my favourite pillow all ruined, my favourite stuffed animal burn damaged. My father was so angry with me, cause I had left some tea lights (small candles) by the bed. I checked everything so that it wouldn't be any such accidents! Why was he so mad at me? I checked it, I can swear that I checked that there were no damn candles...

Some dreams give me so strong feelings that I can't let go of them after I wake up. I still ask myself, why was my father so mad at me? Why didn't I see the candles? This dream was riddled with shame, anger and fear.

Moving on to another dream. I play a lot of WoW, and apparently my subconscious mind acknowledges that. Cause apparently I recalled the human's race leader Varian Wrynn's name and exact looks in a dream tonight. I don't even play as a human, though he looks kinda cool with that scar across his face and all. You know I love scars.

I don't see the point in playing as a human in WoW, when you can pretend to be a dwarf, a troll, a blood elf and so on. I already pretend to be a human every day in real life. And I don't want that burden in my favourite game.

I read on a web page some time ago, someone describing which race to pick for a priest. They had written that most people play as human, because most people are human in real life. *Most* people, not everyone, they stated. I can't even describe that feeling, being recognised as possibly not human, someone realising that not all people are in fact humans! The wow feeling! (Pun intended).

Lately I've been thinking about cosplay, that it would be awsome dressing up and competing as a goblin priest. Though, I suppose I should be a specific goblin in the game. Like trade prince Gallywix or something. I dunno. I don't even know how I could proceed with that thought.

That troll rogue is back in Orgrimmar! At level 82 this time. Still wearing the starter gear, just standing there. My mind starts wandering again, wondering what's up with that player. Though I don't know if I should ask them.

Come one, come all

I'm in quite a confused state right now. Don't know exactly how to describe it. I'm thinking about my love and how things are with him. I'm worried, excited and feel guilty all at once. I don't know how to play my game, so to say. Which cards to show and which to keep hiding. It might be time to make a move, though I'm very uncertain.

Also thinking about my demon form. That I miss what I looked like, that it feels like an emotional amputation of sorts. Sometimes I think maybe this life has changed me too much, that I'm not the demon I once was anymore. I hope that isn't true. Cause if it is true then I am nothing. Neither demon nor human.

And I'm thinking about Caspian, my dearest from Dala, and that it was because of him I started to get more interested in elves. Tolkien and world of warcraft elves mostly. Every time I fall in love I hope that person is him. In spirit, of course. That even if he wouldn't remember being an elven prince in a past life, I would still somehow recognise them as him. Or her, cause you never really know with reincarnations now do you? They screwed it up in my case, so why shouldn't it be possible the same thing happened to him?

I wonder who I am and where I belong in this world, if not in my love's arms, the only place I want to be, the only place where I can't be. Cause even when I doubt, I can never really stop believing and hoping. My dreams are my life. But my life... is a nightmare.

Lucid dreams

I've been lucid dreaming tonight. In the dream I crossed paths with a certain Matthew Grey Gubler, the actor who plays doctor Reid in Criminal Minds. It was the actor that I met, but he was also the character. In the dream I knew him, we were colleagues in the BAU once, but I had quit for personal reasons.

We talked in English to each other, and I correctly remembered his name as well. My sister was very fond of him and jealous of me cause we were friends. I tried my best to be close to him without coming off as a creep, and hold my sister away from him, to give him some space. I don't really know exactly why I decided to follow him around, I guess I just found him interesting, and it was fun speaking English.

I remember telling him that I was sort of studying behavioural science on my own, and that I wanted to get back into the BAU someday. I knew I'm not exactly studying that, but yeah I'm really into behavioural science. I stuck to dreaming about that, thought I might learn something, or I don't know.

It was so long ago I had lucid dreams, and I definitely didn't think I'd be able to do it without having to actually work for it, or how to say it. That usually takes time and practice. Oh well, it was a nice experience anyhow. Think maybe I'll be able to do it again next night? I sure hope so!

Now I'm gonna go earn some gold in WoW and at the same time complete some Loremaster achievements.

Invisible tears

It's been a long time since I wrote about my crush. Perhaps my words are ending, but I'm not thinking in words about him. There are pictures, snap shots of memories, a split second's smile, his mumbling voice, the way it felt when his fair stroke my face. I'm thinking in pictures, sound and sensation in a way I've never done before. Usually all of my thoughts are conversations. With myself, Anna or made up conversations with other people. So these wordless thoughts are completely new for me, at least to this extreme.

Besides, it's all just repeating. It's the same thoughts since October, November and December. Over and over, and over again. That I miss him. And I miss him more and more every day. I dream of curling up in his arms, that he whispers that he loves me, plays with my hair, kisses my cheek. I'm still lovesick. I just haven't been bothering you with the same old, constantly repeating in circles.

I've been listening to this song, "Kola lake vellari" by a guy named Himesh Reshammiya, for hours and hours since I found it on Spotify yesterday. I even fell asleep listening to it on repeat on my cell phone last night. Somehow it reminds me of my love. It sounds a bit sad to me. Like he's longing, lost in that woman's eyes. That he can't have her. The one he's dancing with in the video to the song. I have no idea what he's actually singing about, so it's just a feeling. And no, I can't find the lyrics via google either.

I still sleep with his picture just a few inches away from my face every night. Imagining that he's actually there. It's a sad comfort, and it feels like this dream of mine will never ever come true. And I don't know for how much longer I can endure this lovesickness. I'm slowly losing my will to live, as my will to disappear forever increases. To take my stupid dreams with me to a better place, without heartache and invisible tears.

"And still I fall apart
for this dream will end
and leave me with wounds
that cannot mend"

What I can't control

I've recently figured out that I'm a bit of a control freak. But at the same time I have no control to begin with. I think they are related though, rather than opposing. That because I feel I have no control over anything, I have this insane need to find that control. Cause it scares me, just how out of control my whole life is. That I can't even control what to eat, when to sleep, my self harm addictions, my (in)ability to function in society. I'm trying to reverse it, to gain the control I've never had.

*

I just asked myself: what do I most fear? and the answer I came up with was: being this miserable for the rest of my days. But in that case I don't have anything to fear, right? Fearing something that already is to continue, isn't that rather about enduring and not being willing to accept things as they are? I really have nothing to lose in that sense, cause I don't fear losing something. I fear not gaining something.

*

When I woke up this morning it was from a dream. In the dream my teeth were falling out one at a time because I had not taken care of them for a long time. It was so realistic. Abruptly I awakened and instantly yelled out: "That's it, I'm gonna start brushing my teeth more often!" My dreams are like that now. Super intense and so realistic that they wake me up instantly and as a result I'm either horrified, inspired, disgusted, heavily confused, angry or sad to tears. Usually I'm additionally yelling something out, anything from a simple shriek to a whole conversation with myself. It's a bit disturbing to say the least.

The bridge between my dreams and the awaken world is shattering, blurred. Somehow I'm worried that one day I won't be able to wake up from those nightmares, that they will continue after I wake up, forever. I don't even know if that's possible, but in my world, absolutely anything is possible. I believe in everything, you know? Including literally getting stuck in an eternal nightmare.

Unreality

Had this awful dream tonight. I was a Persian man in love with a woman who had been forced to marry him, by her family. I had noticed she was suffocating in our relationship, so I confronted her and told her that I wanted her to leave so that she could be happy. It was the most heartbreaking dream ever, and when I woke up I realised it reflected the feelings I have for my crush. If I had the choice to be with him even if he doesn't feel the same for me - or to never be with him so that he can be happy, what would I do?

I just don't wanna be in reality tonight. Not my twisted mind's reality, and not your reality either. I wanna be in an unreality, some place where it doesn't hurt. Where I don't have to wake up scared or sad and alone.

I was supposed to have laundry today, but my "morning" mood was really terrible so I let the phone calls from the crew go to voice mail and when they banged on my door I basically told them to piss off. I couldn't get my ass off to the grocery store today either, since I ignored all my alarms and stayed in bed until an hour after the store closed.

I have no motivation for anything, just wanna disappear. But I have to pack some stuff tonight for a little trip I'm going off for on Thursday. I'll do that later...

Half here, half there

The silence scared me as I lied in my bed, trying to get back to sleep. I've never heard such silence before, my breath takes was the only thing I could hear. So I went up at 3:30 in the morning. I like mornings now, cause I don't feel so much during that time. And that's why I didn't like them before, cause I feel like a zombie at dawn. But better a zombie than an emotional chaos of anxiety and sadness I can't handle.

For some reason I've been having nightly dreams about bleaching my hair blonde for a while now. It's not the same dream recurring, but different ones. I wonder what they mean. Probably that I want to change something in my life, trying something new in general.

But waking up wanting to become blonde is a bit weird. Like "Yeah I should totally bleach my hair! Oh, wait... it's gonna be tricky and probably damage my already damaged hair further. Though I kinda like having black hair... why would I want it blonde by the way? Oh yes, I don't. What the fuck was I thinking? Oh, weird dream..."

It's like I'm sort of still half in my dreams even after I wake up, that the bridge over to reality is blurred somehow. They're becoming more vivid, and it's harder to let go after I wake up. Not in a clinging sort of sense, but more like it's hard to tell if I'm still dreaming or not. That's been going on for like a month or so now, maybe longer.

My memory seems to be shorter than a second sometimes today. I'm like "Oh, yes! I'm going to... huh? No, now I reme... huh?" Seriously, I can't even finish half a thought before it's gone again. More confusing than annoying though.

Who I was supposed to be

I hate being so dependent. On things, people, money, schedules, society, anything. While most of those things I can't just break the connection with (though I've tried), some of them I've on and off been believing I could break off with. Like medicine, for example. Why should I not be able to live without that? I'm not terminally ill, I can't die from some unspecified, undiagnosed mental illness, and I'm handicapped either way. What if it would be better? What if I could think clearer, crawl out of my shell?

And people. Everyone is more or less dependent on other people; your boss to give you pay checks, your landlord to not kick you out of your apartment, your dentist or doctor, and even your friends and family to be there for you. But I'm a little bit more dependent than the average joe. Definitely more than I would like to be. That's where my "running away" -thoughts come in, when I think I should just get away from everyone and try to live completely on my own for a little while. Because sometimes it just gets too much.

I just don't want to be so dependent on others taking care of me. That I need to rely on strangers from a special service residence to help me wash my clothes cause I can't manage it on my own. I suppose that really bugs me.

Ever since I was a kid I've always wanted to be able to take care of myself, live on my own terms, drive my own business company, get a driver's licence and go wherever I wanted and do whatever I wanted. It never turned out that way, and a part of me just won't accept it.

Still dreaming of that perfect house close to a town, have my own car (a Jeep would be nice) and a freelance job or no fucking job at all, writing and painting all days. Being happy, pill free, living completely alone and not having to as much as talk to a doctor too often to be able to consider myself healthy. Of course I would have a romantic partner living with me as well though, in a good but not perfect relationship where we grow together as people and sometimes bicker over trivialities.

It would have been an almost realistic dream if I hadn't been a mentally handicapped lunatic. Of course I don't hate myself for being a weirdo, sometimes that can be a real asset, and it does make me kinda interesting. But it costs me my freedom. That, in that dream, that is who I was supposed to be. The eccentric, philosophical artist with a little crazy ideas of a good life, independent and possible to live with.

But something deprived me of that possibility, that life. That freedom and independency that I so much crave. I feel constantly trapped in my own body, in my own mind. And there's no way out. I will most likely just continue to deteriorate and even if I don't end up taking my life, I doubt that I will live to 80. Perhaps to 40, or 50 if I'm "lucky" considering smoking shortens one's life span by 10 years, severe mental illness such as Schizophrenia shortens it by 20 years, and my other bad habits will probably also shorten it even more. Maybe it's not so far off thinking I might not even live to 30...

But it is not living a long life that I want, cause what good is a long life if you suffer? I'd rather have a short life. A short and miserable life or a short and decent life are both better than a long and insufferable life. Of course some things can get better, and I do hope that I'll be able to turn it all around to a brighter path, but deep down I know that my chances of making that happen are very slim.

So I don't really hate myself. I just hate my life and what I've become. How it all turned out, and what it's leading to. I see and hear about my friends getting permanent jobs, finishing their studies, talking about pay checks, moving to their own apartments, getting pets, keeping steady relationships for years, getting engaged, getting married, having children.

And I'm just withering away. Still dependent on my parents, can't live entirely on my own or with anyone, probably wouldn't be able to hold a job for more than five minutes, can't even study as of now, wouldn't be able to care for a pet, I've been single for two years and I'll probably never be able to have a child.

I try to tell myself that I'm still young, and most of my friends who have gotten that far in life are older than me. And who knows, maybe things will be different in five or ten years? But I don't believe it. The problem is that I don't believe in it because it's so damn unlikely.

*

Sorry for the super long entry. I just go on and on on the same topics. When I try to finish it off I just think of more to add. I'm hopeless in that area.

My last dance

My love is constantly on my mind tonight and the day that just passed. His existence has brought me hopelessness, heartache, jealousy and bitter joy, hope, longing, wishing, missing, dreaming. I'm cold and I constantly forget why, then I remember, and forget it again. Not even he can keep me warm, not from all these miles away. Every increasing thought make me feel like I'm drowning in despair. It hurts so bad tonight and I've lost myself in a distorted paradise of a future that will never exist. A slowly shattering dream that will never be. I need to hold on, not let it break me. Not yet!

Preparing for the worst isn't even an option, cause how does one prepare for death? Oh yeah, I've been doing that all my life, so what's the point really? I don't wanna think about it but the thoughts invade me and fucks with my mind. One of those things I just can't seem to be able to control and I don't think I ever will. I need to keep believing that it could one day become true, that I will finally know what being happy is like. Just once.

I need it for this life to ever become meaningful and worth living for. For all the love that I've ever felt that has choked me for so long and so many times to ever have meant anything.

Do you understand? If I won't ever experience mutual love in a good relationship everything I've ever felt for any romantic interest will have been for nothing. All this searing pain and hopelessness for absolutely nothing but pain and hopelessness. I can't bear that thought. Something good has to come out of it and this is my last chance. My last dance. Cause if I fall to pieces again I won't be able to continue. I'll shut the doors forever.

Maybe this is just nonsense. Have I ever been able to predict the future? Perhaps not, but one thing that I know for sure is: every time it's stronger, heavier, more powerful and painful than ever before. And the last time I was this fucking close to actually die because of it. I may not be a seer, but I know there's only so much you can take. Even I can't conceive of just how much I love him, but these feelings are beyond doubt something I have never felt before. I'll wait for him, and I'll continue waiting for as long as I can take this.

I've never had the patience and will to wait for someone like this before. Passively looking over my shoulder to see if anything has changed, keeping my distance further than I need and closer than I dare. Cautiously waiting for something that will most likely never happen. And shallowly walk in his foot steps miles away, pretending I just want to be his friend.

It's in my blood

I dreamt that I had bleached my whole hair, but I didn't understand why, but then I realised that I wanted to become blonde. I was on a trip with my two friends and one one them got furious over me accidentally breaking something of his, and then we had somewhat of a war where he destroyed my things, one at a time, saying that he was only getting even with me.

I don't know if this is a delusion, but I think that when I'm letting myself bleed, I let out more than just my blood. This anxiety, this illness or condition or whatever it is. I think that it's in my blood. Like a hereditary/congenital disease or a virus. And by letting some of it out, I also temporarily free myself from what runs in it. When I feel faint right afterwards, I know that I've succeeded to let out some of it. Again, this could be interpreted as a figure of speech, but I do mean literally. That tapping it out is almost kinda like some sort of cleansing. Perhaps this isn't so weird at all, this idea. But it sounds like something in the lines of psychotic thinking. It's hard to tell from where I stand.

But a belief must be like any other belief, right? I mean, say if I believe in ghosts, then I can categorize that belief as something occult, right? So why shouldn't I be able to know if my beliefs like this one with my blood is psychotic? Theoretically, that should be possible to distinguish. But it's hard. It's hard as hell. Cause no matter how self aware I am, trying to figure out which of my beliefs are normal, unusual or psychotic can be damn frigging hard at times.

Wrapped up in myself

My nightly dreams are so sweet and romantic as of lately, that they are a cruel joke. They taunt me and my love haunts me in them. I've been hesitating to write more about him in this blog, not sure what to say when I don't wanna say too much, or too little. He's been on my mind a lot more since the last week, and I know why. It's like I can't let go. I cling to a memory, repeating it over and over and keep analysing every little detail of what I can remember. Believe it or not, I'm even more obsessed now than ever.

There's been so much on my mind lately, and I suppose that's why I've been cutting like crazy. All of it just increased sevenfold within a few days and I got from not cutting at all, rarely taking anxiolytic drugs and not being psychotic - to cutting several, multiple times a day, constantly popping pills and drifting in and out of psychosis faster than I can say "pyjamas".

Of course I don't regret going to Uppsala, it's the best thing that's happened in over a year! Yet, yes it had it's downsides as well... I knew I was in pretty bad shape when I went, so I expected to reach a new peak or two, so I did have that in mind when I decided to go for it. But some things I didn't expect. Like... that I would meet him.

And I can just say that my feelings are confirmed, to say the least. He is real, and I'm not in love with an imaginary person, unless I hallucinated away half a weekend. Before, it was only written words, music and pictures that my obsession revolved around. Now it's so much more. I believe that is why I can't stop my mind from racing haywire night and day. Now I'm addicted to his smile, drowning in his eyes, obsessed about his personality and wrapped tightly around his heart.

A lot has been going on. My hypnophobia is as bad as ever, it still takes from 3 to 5 or even up to 8 hours to fall asleep. It usually goes like this:
1) Have minor anxiety until I take Lergigan and Mirtazapine as usual at ten in the evening/night.
2) Have moderate anxiety leading to a few cuts on my arms and an Imovane until around three in the morning.
3) Have major anxiety leading to more cuts, Zyprexa, a second Imovane and music on the loudest possible volume at somewhere between four and eight in the morning.
4) Eventually crashing from exhaustion between five and nine in the morning.

Every god damned night, it has been this way, for over a month now. A part of me just wanna give up, trying to stay awake forever instead of trying to sleep, as I did before. I don't know how to deal with this, and it's not going away, no matter what I do. I turn every room I ever sleep in into a place of anxiety and hopelessness. This fear... it's so irrational and stupid. Why do I have to have an irrational and stupid fear of something so simple and necessary!?

And then this psychosis thing that's been going on as well... Self harm, Schizophrenia, hypnophobia, suicide and my love are things that never really leave my mind. These two weeks those have all attacked me at once, taunting and haunting me. I can't think clear, everything is up side down and inside out no matter how I twist and turn it. It's been a lot of that lately, I don't "shift" between focusing on one thing and the next moment I think about something else. Now it's allover the place and confusing the hell out of me. Noticed that when I was at a meeting with a doctor who will help me quit smoking, and she asked me what mental problems I have. I couldn't think of anything!

How thinking about everything can lead you to at the same time think about nothing. Total space blank. The music, the screams, the laughter and the cries, the small talk and the big conversations turns into white noise. Blue, black, white, green, red and yellow turns into a grey-brown mass. So there I was, so wrapped up in a million thoughts that I couldn't think about anything at all.