Trauma or attraction

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Bargain

A part of me now believes that I sold my soul to the devil for a nice body and luck in love. The down side would be that I will only live for a few more years, and then I will inevitably kill myself. I accepted that (though it took some time), but it wasn't until recently that I added one plus one, so to say.

Things have gone remarkably well lately, and always when I pray to Satan he fulfils my wishes. But to what price? That's why I didn't understand it before. When I signed that contract in my own blood, things started to change.

Have I not watched Ghost Rider?! Yes, I have and a gazillion other movies that depicts just how much of a bad idea it is to sign contracts with your own blood. Stupid fuck!

I don't know what will happen after I die because of this, but I think I only sold a part of my soul, not the entire kit. I don't even carry around all of my soul. Some of it is somewhere else, and incommunicado, you know.

I couldn't just let myself get ravaged by misery until I break and kill myself because my whole life just became a horrible mistake. I'd rather be satisfied for just two years and then kill myself because I know that my time is up. Leave this world feeling that at least I had something in the end. It's worth it, damn it's worth it.

I realise that for the bargain to work I still have to pray and work my ass off to achieve what I want for the rest of my life. Then what's the point? You might ask. The point is that I will be able to reach my goals without failing. It won't be and it isn't a fairytale magic thing. Satan can't make my scars after the surgery to heal miraculously over night, for example, but what he can do is to make sure that it heals well and without complications. (If that doesn't happen we're gonna have a little chat)

The bargain is about changing two major parts of my life for the better. The trans related stuff, and mostly my dysphoria. My body, in simplicity. Then it's also about my love, K, and my feelings for him. And that's why I still get depressions, nightmares, phobias, sleep- and eating problems and such. Cause that isn't a part of the bargain.

It is much, since my life literally depends on those two things. I can get by with bad habits (especially since I'm not gonna live so much longer) and most of my problems can be helped or fixed with medication and psychotherapy. But my dysphoria, and my fucked up heart... that I really needed some help with.

But of course this could all also be a delusion. It's not normal to believe that you sold your soul to the devil...

Faith in delusions

I haven't been practising much Satanism lately, have I? Yeah, living by it's "virtues" or what to say, but I always have, more or less. I don't even know for sure what it even means to me yet, or what I build my belief on.

There are people who talk to God and hear their lord speak back to them, but I don't know how literally they mean. But if it is literally, and other people don't consider them insane, that it's just their faith... Could that justify the fact that I hear Satan speak to me? Or am I just bonkers?

He still fulfil my wishes, even when he says it might not be possible to do so. He knows I'm so devoted and grateful that my wishes shouldn't go to waste. At least I think so. But the thing is, some times when I hear him speak to me (it sounds a bit like my own thoughts and at the same time not, cause his voice is much different from my own) I can't help but wonder if it's the real Satan. Though he always manages to convince me.

Of what I know about delusions this is a very sticky web I'm in. Cause the exact same thing, that of voices convincing you they are real, occurs. It's tricky because they actually do convince me and I believe they are real. In my heart I believe it, and in most parts of my mind. It's just that my subconscious or some other partially hidden part of my mind tends to wonder some times.

I'm a very rational person, and it does seem a little weird hearing the voice of Satan, right? Cause how can I tell how many screws I've got loose if I can't count? I still haven't told my mother about these extra voices I've been hearing since the summer. Maybe I'm a bit embarrassed, or maybe I just don't wanna hear what I think she would say about them. I wanna keep them to myself, what they say and what they promise me.

So what do I really base my satanic belief system on? Is it a delusion, a book or something so strong inside me I just can't describe it? If I would somehow get confirmation that the voice I hear is entirely a hallucination, would I then question my choice of religion? I honestly don't know. Cause what if I swore my life over to a hallucination? That... would really be quite an inconvenience... talking about letting my illness take control over my life. Whatever it is that I have.

If it's not Schizophrenia I still have hallucinations and deeply embedded delusions that I most often can't tell apart from the reality. Most of them I've had since childhood. That's why they're so deep and complicated. They've had years and years to develop and poison my mind, heart and soul.

The scary thing though, is that there might be more delusions that I live with every day just that I can't tell them apart from reality. Ever.

When I listen to Funker Vogt's song "Schizophrenia" and recognise myself so painfully much in it. Some times I can't even stand to listen to it because of that. Here's an example:

"I'm living in a real nightmare
my two worlds will collide
I don't know who I am

You will never understand
the way they think and act
a schizophrenic person
we treat without respect"



It's not so strange that I choose to flee from reality, but it's not your reality that I want to escape from.

Cause and affect

I had some weird conversations with Satan and Anna on my way back from the grocery store. I made a prayer to him that he called a "desperate prayer" which I thought was a little... eh, i dunno. You know evil beings can be a bit... mean. He said he couldn't grant me that wish, and I asked why. That at least he could try. He seemed a bit baffled by my up frontness. I told him that he's not the real Satan, but just a voice in my head. He replied to that that he's a god and can do whatever he wants, including invading my brain with crude telepathy. Anna said that he's weird for a god, to which I replied "how can you know, how many gods have you met?"

These voices really know which buttons to press to keep me believing in them... And losing sleep and fucking up my circadian rhythm and eating habits really fucks with my mind. Like normal people in that situation would get tired and cranky, a little disoriented perhaps - while I'm hearing the voice of Satan and my split personality talking to each other in my head.

Oh, well. I guess I'm kinda used to it. As used to someone can get to something like that. Though I've heard somewhere that hearing voices isn't that uncommon, and you don't have to be psychotic for that sake alone. Asperger's can experience that. And those with Borderline can experience psychotic symptoms, though it's quite rare for them. I don't know what that's supposed to say about me though.

Asking for it

This is kinda weird, but I find myself forgetting where I was all of last week. Uppsala, damn it! How can I forget such a thing, like over and over again?! I only remember bits and glimpses. At night I dream that I wake up in the guest room where I slept in Uppsala, and then when I wake up for real in my own bed I wonder where the fuck I am. And where I was. Even when I'm clearly awake (or am I ever?) I start thinking about last week, and I get so confused cause I've forgotten where I was that entire week.

A part of me thinks that maybe that trip to Uppsala never actually happened, and that that is why I keep forgetting it. Another part of me tells me that I was on the verge of psychosis about half the time, and even did have a psychotic episode once, and that's why it's so hard to remember. Once again I'm having a hard time trying to differ dream from reality.

It's true that I did have some sort of psychosis while waiting for and on the bus from Arlanda to Uppsala last Thursday. The main 4 voices in my head including my own had a third world war for an hour and a half or so. Basically I tried to talk to Anna, Vargyl replied, they started fighting, I told them to shut the fuck up and unintentionally called out "Oh my god!" to which Satan replied, and then all three of them started fighting and talking to each other about me in third person. I tried to separate them, but I couldn't make out what anyone said cause they were all talking at once.

Weird thing though, while I was scared, restless and riddled with anxiety in the midst of all that, it was Anna who calmed me down. She said "You don't need to be afraid, we want you no harm". All the while, I couldn't help thinking what the other passengers on the bus must have thought of me. Constantly talking "to myself" and telling imaginary people to shut up, shaking and twitching and frenetically scribbling in my diary while desperately trying to hide myself under my hair. Well, that was one hell of a trip!

So... if I've counted correctly I have had 4 psychotic outbreaks in 4 months. That is just... I don't know. Not good. I really am getting worse, but at the same time I feel stronger, more grounded and hopeful than before. I'm actually looking forward to things in the future, want to work towards some goals in my life and change. So if I really have Schizophrenia it is actually way better than Borderline/Aspie stuck in a limbo that almost killed me. If you look at it that way...

Well, technically I'm still stuck in a limbo of sorts, but as long as I can endure my hallucinations and weird delusions going a little haywire every once in a while, I can manage. I have to, it's that simple. If life wanna fuck me over it's gotta have to do it properly this time if I'm supposed to go all suicidal again. NOT asking for hell to break loose, just saying that I won't go down easy. I may not have been down in this particular road in hell before, but I've seen many of the dark ones, survived them and come out stronger, so how hard can it be?

Believe

I realise I don't really quite tell people up front about how I consider myself a Satanist or the real reason behind it. Especially not curious strangers, but I suppose my faith is a bit, erhm... unconventional even among friends, and I’d definitely not be honest about it to my family. I only told them the basic guidelines of LaVeyan Satanism, which isn't even the kind I’m following. I suppose I didn't even wanna tell them to begin with, it just slipped out of me and I had to think fast. But even now I don't want to tell them the truth.

I’m not ashamed or anything, it's just that I feel uncomfortable explaining and defending myself for something that is to me highly personal. This is exactly the reason people frown upon modern, newly converted Satanists. Especially the ones who wears black and listens to non-stereotypical music. Because it's something people just can't understand, so what's the point in trying to explain?

If my family knew it would only further increase their idea of me being a complete looney. Sooner or later I probably will drop the “S-word” (schizophrenia), as an indicator that I know I’m not completely sane but also that I don't always know what is real or imaginary in the world as I perceive it. That I have doubts about things they assure me are real, and strongly believe in things they assure me are figments of my imagination. What this could have to do with my faith I don't know. Perhaps that I on some level might think that my perception of Satan might be false due to hallucinations or even a delusion. That I’m aware of the fact that everything I say or do could be my messed up brain making up stories, but it isn't my intention cause to me it is as real as the grass is green in the summer.

Though I’m sure my family knows that already, but do they know that I know that? Would I invalidate not only myself but my true beliefs, by mentioning that I think I have Schizophrenia with a reasonable cause, while at the same time expressing my extreme devil worship? Would I create a link between the two by doing so, or does it even matter what I tell them? I’ve lost all my hopes or thoughts that I could look my mother in her eyes and tell her my truth and know that she would believe me. It's not that I don't trust her, cause I do, it's just that I’ve stopped believing in her. Because it feels like she stopped believing in me.

So what is the point of ever telling her anything that is important to me? Cause nothing I say seems to be important to her. All she says nowadays is “sure, sure, if you believe that...” and when we discuss things, or rather argue, all she does is trying to prove me wrong. I’ve become distant to her lately, and it almost kinda feels like I’ve lost a friend. Now she's just a mother to me, and I know it might sound horrible, but that is not enough. I have no one else on this island, and she's always been more than just a mother to me.

I will talk to her about this, as soon as I find the words, cause I need for her to listen to me. Not just hear my words, but listening and focusing. We know each other so well, so what is this sudden gap between us? Sometimes I’ve thought of just saying: “You think that I’m crazy. That every single thing I believe in is a figment of my imagination. You've given up on me, that I’d ever become anything or succeed in life. You don't appreciate my creativity: the only thing that keeps me alive. It feels like everything I say just goes right through you and you don't even listen to me anymore. I still trust you and I know you want me no harm either, but when did you stop believing in me?”

I live just a website away

Okay... so I had 8 followers on tumblr just yesterday, now they are 28... and a picture I posted of myself has gotten 55 notes! Not sure how that happened, but you should have seen my face when I noticed! Like woah! I don't even post that much stuff myself, but mostly just reblog what the ones I follow upload. Did I mention that I love that website? Kinda need to say it again! My sister has a blog there somewhere, or at least I think she said that a while ago, and I’ve been meaning to ask her if I could follow her there. But I never see her nowadays and I don't even know if I would want to have any contact with her online.

I live on the internet! At least that's what it feels like. I'm not addicted to it, I moved into it. Facebook is my kitchen, tumblr is my living room, Dayviews is my bathroom and the rest are my bedroom which I don't visit that often. I sit by my computer with Firefox constantly on display every waken hour. Well, I do embroider or draw a little now and then, but take breaks for smoking and then I’m back by the screen. Oh, what a life... but considering how single tracked or dull it might seem, I’m never bored. Never, ever bored. My secret? I'm insane! Okay, not exactly a secret, but that's what's keeping me busy. All the million thoughts, undefinable emotions, hallucinations, delusions, psycho-analysing, anxiety and self harm.

Satan really does answer to my every prayer! I appreciate it very much, but it is a little creepy. Well, we all know about the first one when he saved my life in late June, and the second time I asked him for how long I'm going to live and I got the answer “for three or four years from now”. Now that one I can't know if it's real or not though, not yet anyway. But then again a few days ago I asked him if he could perhaps give my crush a little nudge in my direction but I didn't receive an answer, until later. He told me that I can nudge my crush myself, I don't need divine powers for that! As for the next one, I prayed yesterday and asked him to help me get through this tough period I’m having right now. Today I feel a lot better. Like I can eat and sleep again and don't have so much dark thoughts. I just know he's got something to do with that too!

So this is how I will know if a prayer is worth saying or not: if it's something I can do for myself, he won't bother doing it for me, no matter how much I’d rather he did. If it's a question, I can get a straight answer right away (though that is the part where I might be hallucinating). This is so fascinating! I really picked the right religion, I know it, and I’m gonna keep babbling about it, so get used to it.

In my perception

Just drank a cup of extra strong coffee (seriously super strong) and my heart is beating its way out of my chest, I’m sweating, dizzy and my stomach hurts. Great job, excellent idea! What the hell was I thinking?! I’m lost inside my thoughts and scared of falling asleep. Just wanted to stay awake. I can't go to sleep unfinished, but I never get finished nowadays. My insides are eating me from within. I don't know what this is. I'm lovesick, so I stopped eating and sleeping. Which caused me to hallucinate, get scared of sleeping and completely lose my appetite. The forced upon me insomnia became a chase controlled by caffeine. My imploding mind scared me and now I can't stop thinking about the things I’ve seen that wasn't real. One thing always leads to another, but I won't know where it leads me until I’m there. It scares me and thrills me.

This is exactly the kind of moments I should start gnawing on those Zyprexa pills. Need to tell my mother to bring me more of those, they will be much needed and appreciated. What would I do without tiny little pills with unpronounceable ingredients, to make my inner monsters go away? I’d be dead by now, but I wonder since how long? Not that long, I think, a couple of years or so. I still sometimes think that I actually am dead. Just haven't realised it yet. That I’m a ghost, still hanging around in the world of the living without realising I’m not alive anymore. That thought scares me, that I could be stuck in some sort of limbo. Limbos always scare me, I’ve been in a few. You feel so lost, hopeless and helpless then. Like there's literally nothing you can do, someone else is holding your life in their hands, you're left with two options which each will shatter your world and there is no third option. Of course matters can be resolved, cause they did for me, but I that moment you're so very vulnerable. And I think I am in one right now.

I believe in too much, I believe in everything. Well, not blindly, but yeah, I do think there's a possibility for absolutely everything to be real. Dragons, God, conspiracy theories, other dimensions, time travel, aliens, heaven and hell, reincarnation, demons and angels, luck, curses, magic, spirits or ghosts, telepathy, and oh damn this is my illness talking... I just watched an episode of the fairly new tv-show “Perception” about a Schizophrenic neurologist who sometimes works for the FBI. If anyone remember or have seen the show “Will & Grace” - it is he in the lead role. Anyways, in this episode that I just watched he had found some clinic to help a girl get rid of her OCD, a cure (which was obviously fake by the way, that's the annoying thing about this show. If you have any clue about mental illness and treatments for them, you'll notice there's a lot of shit the creators have made up. Also there was an episode based on a known case of teenage girls getting tics after having some sort of surgery, but in this episode it was about a murder. That annoyed me cause they changed a real story to something incredibly stupid...) Where was I? Yes, he said at the end of the episode that “if there's a cure for one mental illness, there will be cures for others in the future”.

I was close to tears when I thought of that. That a cure would be nice. For whatever it is that I have. Asperger is the only diagnose I know is real. Or no, sometimes I doubt that too. Cause it just doesn't fit with all the other shit. And the likeness between Asperger Syndrome and Schizophrenia is striking. I could have the other and neither Asperger or Borderline. I could have only Asperger and something else altogether that's causing my hallucinations and all the other signs of Schizophrenia... No, who am I kidding, it's spot on. I wish it wasn't, but I can't deny the hell I’m living or my obsessive compulsive psycho-analysis on myself. But I’ve reached the end now, haven't I? This is it, I won't come any closer to the truth. Unless... I should buy some books about it! I might not be able to get in to a psychology class, but I could at least do some research on my own.

Oh my god, pills now! There, taken. I took them last night too, two pills that dissolves in my mouth. They're pretty effective, which is amazing, since hardly anything works on my anxiety. Except for strong benzo and no sane doctor will give me that. Pricks! Well, okay I’d probably OD on them if I had some, but still! Zyprexa is actually an antipsychotic, which I think is very good since I’m closer to paranoia and hallucinations triggering each other, rather than an actual anxiety attack.

Okay, that's enough for now. I’ll give you an update or something when the pills have kicked in. Meanwhile I’m listening to “Schizophrenia” by Funker Vogt on repeat. Just freaking love that song! Too bad I can't hear what is sung in it, and lyrics are nowhere to be found...

I'm praying to the Devil again... feels like I’ve done that a lot lately. Some things he can help me with, others he can't. I just don't really know which, so I’m praying either way. If I was a Christian and prayed to their god, everyone would be all cheerful and say “oh my god, that's so good!” or something. Well, my god isn't so bad either! He's just been judged and hated for going his own way and saying “fuck that shit” when others try to strap him down. It's not so strange why I’m drawn to him.