Night time tragedy

I'm up again, eating. Couldn't sleep, thirsty. For a cigarette, for things I don't have at home. Have some lemonade, have my medication. 2 pills for my sleep, 1 pill for my mood. Why doesn't borderline count as a mood disorder? It's pretty fucking much effecting my mood. But I'm not even sure I have it, not truly. I think I have DID or some type of schizophrenia. Or just the worst case of PTSD with dissociation that has been going on for soon 17 years. I'm not well, I've never been.

"Night time tragedy
and I follow my roots
they guide me and bewilder me
under my boots

I'm up again, thirsty
for a calm that I can't find
I'm reckless, defenceless
a danger to my own mind

I feel so much
and it's degrading me senseless
I'm aching, yearning
for becoming timeless

I lose myself yet again
for dimensions that do not hold
Slowly dying
without the soul I sold

I panic and realise
that I can lose everything
but I value every moment with you
higher than anything

There's not a piece of me left
worth holding onto
So I sell my pride and live
only for you"

Just wrote it. I'm broken today, maybe you can tell? I don't know. I just miss him and I'm destroying myself. Don't know if that is tumblr material. I'm gonna try to get some sleep again, but I'll probably be up soon again. So I'll leave my computer on. I'll leave the light on. I'm really just too damn bored. And life doesn't interest me when I'm sober.

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...

Ambivalent sleep issues

I just wanna tell him that I love him, but I can't. It's eating at me, I don't like keeping secrets, they almost always come out one way or another eventually, because I can't hold it in any longer. This only goes for my own secrets, I should assure you. Other people's secret I feel absolutely no need to blab about. Because that secret has already been shared, and it's not my secret to tell.

I've been pushed sometimes, to reveal someone else's secret, but no. When I make a promise not to tell, my lips are sealed under any and every circumstances. Drunk, high, pushed, worried - doesn't matter. Maybe that's why people so easily seem to trust me? Don't think I've thought about that before.

I'm screwing up my sleep again. I had an instant choice to make, when I felt I was getting sleepy: caffeine or sleeping pills. Eeny meeny miny moe... and I picked the bad choice. Once again the anxiety won over me, and another 12 hours or so will pass by without sleep. I have this nagging feeling that I wanna "prove" that I'm still hypnophobic, which is so stupid I can't even believe I'm writing it here. The strongest reason though, is that I just can't bear another night fighting to fall asleep.

It's the opposite of what my psychologist advised me to do, but it's not like I have a "turn off-button" lying around somewhere. You can't just ignore a fear that powerful and crippling. It's like I'm standing at the edge of the roof of a very high building every night, looking down, and maybe you can understand what that's like. Even if you don't have a distinct fear of heights.

Cause sometimes the war in my head is killing me. Over and over in ways I didn't even think was possible. It always finds new ways, creeping in through cracks I didn't before know were there. Anxiety, or straight out uncontrollable fear, is sneaky that way, and I believe there is nothing in this world, in this realm of reality, that one cannot feel anxious about. Just that thought makes me anxious! But it's true.

Power of gods

I'm taking too much sleeping pills now, cause I can't wake up in the morning, at noon, or in the afternoon. I didn't wake up today until my mother called me at ten in the evening. I'm spacing out the dosages too much, as I took the second Imovane at six this morning and it took two hours to reach full effect. The effect isn't supposed to last for twelve hours, so I can't conceive of why I couldn't wake up despite several alarms and the crew calling me multiple times. People must have almost declared me dead...

I can't remember if they went in to my apartment and woke me up that way though. It's possible, since that's what they're supposed to do. Besides, the lid to my cup of water at my bedside table was taken off but not put back on it, which I always do, so I have my suspicions that I actually did wake up and took my pills some time in the morning.

I'm thinking so much about self harm and preferably cutting these days. It can't be healthy. Thinking about it, I mean, though I'm sure the act of doing it isn't so healthy either. It's like I'm triggering myself. Right now I'm in an uneven state of anxiety and hopelessness, it's scratching and tearing inside me, and alternative rock band Manic Street Preachers from Cardiff in Wales takes the edge off it. I remember they were a part of a question/quiz in the Swedish tv-show "På spåret" a year or so ago, and I was the only one in my family who could answer them. Got no credit for it though.

Sad to say though, I discovered this band after looking up famous people who self harm, and found out their former guitarist Richey Edwards was one of them.

I got "homework" from the smoking cessation doctor I saw yesterday. I'm supposed to write down a little information about every cigarette I smoke until our next meeting in a week or so. Like when I lit up, what I'm doing at that time, what I feel and how important I find the cigarette to be. Taken three in the last hour, so I think there will be a lot of scribbling on that sheet. I'm back to chain smoking again... Damn this anxiety is intolerable.

That relieved the pressure, doing a satanic ritual at this midnight, Halloween. Ain't no better day for it, right? It was quite powerful, and not just that the wind started blowing outside my window as I preprepared the ritual and it increased during it to suddenly just calm down again right after - but the power in the words (Enochian, I think) as I read them out loud, over and over I read them, and the power I felt grew stronger each time. Just wow... It felt like the god above tried to interfere, even though that might sound stupid in a way. I suddenly feel more religious than ever before in my life.

It's drowning me

I’m filling up my seventh cup of coffee for today now. A mixed feeling of bitterness and sadness is slowly drowning me, and for the first time in weeks I have to resist the urge to pour myself a drink. Can't remember if I've eaten anything today, that probably means that I haven't. Something shatters inside me when I have to cut more than once a day. Isn't that enough? Why can't that be enough?!

Obviously something is extra tough today. My mood still swings, but to the darker side more. I have no creative energy, just don't wanna do anything at all really. I'm jaded by the thought of sleep constantly on my mind, and how I try so hard to escape it with caffeine, cutting, cigarettes and music. I’m popping the last Lyrica I have with a Sobril. How the hell am I gonna manage this? Soon I’ll be a benzo addict as well, just because my fear of sleep is ripping my insides apart. It's horrible being afraid of something you have to endure every day. You seriously can't imagine it if you haven't experienced it yourself. It ruins everything.

It's worse now, cause now I’m actually trying to sleep at night. I succeeded this night, but it wasn't easy, not easy at all... I took my Mitrazapin and Lergigan at 22:00 as I was supposed to, but resisted the effect without caffeine. Held the jar with caff pills, just wanted them, craved them, but forced myself not to. Around 01:30 I freaked out, cut and swallowed two Sobril and one Imovane, got in the shower and stayed there until I couldn't stand up any longer when the effect had kicked in. I went to bed and lied there for at least an hour, scared as hell. Shifted between trying to close my eyes and go to sleep – and staring at my phone, right into his eyes on the picture on my cell phone screen, with jaded heartbeats, trying to force myself to stay awake. Around 03:30 or so I finally fell asleep, and got up at 09:50 when the crew woke me up.

So now I’m even more scared and stressed out, cause it's nine o'clock and the night is coming slowly closer. I’m fighting with all my strength, but it just doesn't seem to be enough. Will I stay up tonight or will I repeat the last? Don't wanna think about it, but it hurts less than seeing a picture of my love with his girlfriend. Thinking of how far far away he is, imagining him holding me, comforting me without words, just being here. My fantasies are so pointless, I wish I could just fall out of love. I hate my fucking heart! Why do I always have to repeat the same mistake of falling for unobtainable people over and over again? What's the damn fucking point in that?!

I just don't know what to do. What could possibly make me heal and move on when I just keep moving backwards all the time? I’m right where I was three years ago again, right in the same fucking mess. The only difference is that I live hundred miles away from my friends and the person I’m in love with now, and I don't go to school. I wear the same clothes, listen to the same music, wear the same feelings, going through the same addictions. Still can't fucking sleep or eat, I'm still filled to the brim with anxiety and struggling with the psychiatry that doesn't have a shit to give me. So what's the point of it all, what's the god damned point?

I've lived this far, I know I can survive it, but that's not the question. This has got nothing to do with suicide. All I want is to figure out a way to endure it without resorting to another failed suicide attempt. Cause that is also kinda pointless. All a failed suicide attempt brings me is shame, distress, feeling like a failure, apathy and complete, utter hopelessness. It's like even my heathen god laughs at me for being so pathetic. I just don't wanna feel this way, and I wish there was a cure for lovesickness. Cause it's drowning me.

I'll smoke you like a cigarette

I’m less drowsy now, that took a while to wake up from... For some reason I am more, or most often

tired at night instead of day nowadays. That's odd. I don't remember it being like that since my childhood. Am I losing my nocturnalness? Hope not, that would make me sad. I adore the night, the darkness, the calm, the stars and the silence. And I keep inventing words... well, at least they're understandable...

I’m burning my favourite incense called “Dragon's blood” but I’m not sure what it smells like. A little woody maybe. It has a thick, sweet, metallic, kinda heavy smell. Almost a bit like blood. Smoked, spiced and burned blood. No, I don't know, and it doesn't say on the box.

I’ve noticed that while sleeping I always have to lie on my side, cause it feels like I’m lying uncomfortably on my wings and tail when I’m on my back, and like I’m pulling my neck out of joint when I’m on my stomach. That's one of the reasons I hate sharing bed with someone if it's a small bed and I can't room if I lie on my side. I basically can't sleep at all if I'm forced to lie in any other position. Then it's more comfortable on a pile of clothes on the floor. I'm fat enough to make that fairly comfortable...

I’m feeling a bit disorganised today, forgetting things and it's hard to concentrate on anything, even the fun and or interesting things. I even forget my cigarette, that I’m holding one and when I wanna take another drag it has gone out. So then I light a new one and the same thing happens. Goddamn waste of good smokes! But I hate relighting them after they've been put out. I’m still highly sensitive to smells (I can sense the difference between the smell of the smoke and the one from the cigarette itself from several decimetres away) and the sour bitterness disgusts me. And just that the taste/smell difference between brands is so immense I can't stand most of them. Only the best for me! And that is obviously Lucky Strike. I’m picky that way.

People seem to often be fascinated by my choice of cigarette brand, some even asking where I buy them. Well, almost every tobacco store and some convenient stores sells them... I don't even know why I like them so much, just that I started smoking them because Berny Pålsson wrote about them in her first autobiography. Also the way I smoke seem to surprise people, because I hold the smoke in for between 3 and 15 seconds normally. Breath control. I think the smoke stings too much in my mouth when I don't do that. I really don't do anything normally, do I?

Another pointless entry I realise, but I can't be interesting every minute of the day. Just wanna vary the pointless scrolling with some pointless writing, and what better way to do that than to ramble on my blog? Don't wanna fill out my paper diary with nonsense, after all those are quite expensive. They have to have blank pages in A5 size and not be too thin so that they can last a little while. They usually cost between 70 and 150 kronor, and some of them are filled to the brim with words within a week. Though that rarely happens, only if I’m left without access to a computer in a longer period of time. I do a lot of that, just writing down thoughts and feelings for no purpose or real meaning behind it. Some of it I post here, but most of it I just store on the computer. I’ve written somewhere around 30.000 words within this week alone.  

I’m addicted to writing. That sounds a bit absurd, I know, but it's also somewhat true. You can basically become addicted to everything and if you write thousands of words a day, I'd say you're pretty darn addicted!

I'm talking more to Vargyl nowadays (why does an American/Australian guy have Swedish name, by the way? Or is it pronounced “war-guile”? Really should just ask him, if I get around to that... is it silly that I feel embarrassed asking him that? I mean, since he's a figment of my imagination and all.) I'm still a bit scared of him sometimes, he's quite tricky, and I always have a sensation that he's up to something. But he's sweet and kind, though he doesn't talk much and always with short sentences. Our conversations often die out after a few exchanges of words, or how to say it.

Me: You're so sweet.

Vargyl: Thank you.

Me: I love you.

Vargyl: No you don't.

Me: I'm sorry...

Vargyl: It's okay, you don't need to.