Hate and acceptance

I realise that I hate more people than I thought. People that have in one way or another wronged me. Some of which I still consider friends. Can one hate a friend? Well, I can hate a person but still like some of their qualities. Enough to keep a distance and always keep my guard up, but still being able to laugh at their jokes and agree with them with some of their opinions. Some of them I just pretend to friends with though. Have them added on Facebook so that I can keep up with what's going on in their lives, and take joy out of their misery. All the while being nice and friendly to them, pretending that I care and like when things go well for them. At the same time as I in my mind hope they fuck up or get hurt by someone else.

I don't really know why I keep in touch with these people, maybe I just am that piteous. Most of the time I don't realise just what happened until some time after. Or well, generally quite long time afterwards, to be honest. When that question someone pushed me with to do something I rather didn't do, repeatedly - and repeatedly I caved in - was more of a demand when I come to think of it. Or when a person showed affection and shunned me for years knowing I was interested, that person was more specifically using me when I come to think of it.

I'm listening to Aesthetic Perfection's song "Schadenfreude", which means gloat in German, but apparently it's an English word as well (obviously a loanword). The chorus is just the best:  

Don't need to be the one who does it you 
Don't need to twist the knife or push it through
Just want to see that you're in misery too
Just like me inside

I can be a bit stupid when it comes to meeting people that will later hurt me in some way or another. I have always had this attitude that I think I'm whining over trivialities in situations I really should have just ran for my life. It's hard to identify a problem like that, and knowing whether or not it was just a mishap I should get over or something worse, and knowing if it really hurt me. That's the thing about being a wreck already to begin with: sometimes I don't even notice when someone has caused me to feel even worse.

I do know that I'm very careless when it comes to relationships, whether friends or lovers. Give my heart to some asshole who hurts me and then I do it allover again with someone else. Maybe I just can't tell the difference between good and bad people, just because I don't believe there are people of either kind. That if a kind and caring person does something questionable I just think it's human to do so and simply accept it. But I know that I accept too much, and can only hope that some day maybe I will learn when something is not acceptable before I let them break me.

The happiness I've never known

Why was I never happy, not even in my early childhood? Of all the things I envy from other people, I most of all envy that no matter how sad or happy they are now, they were happy once before. What do I know of happiness? I've never felt it, never been able to reach out and touch it with my finger tips, never even seen it in the distance. I've heard others talk about it, seen other experience it, showing their happiness to the world.

Now I'm not talking about that fairy tale sort of happiness, I'm talking about the every day kind of happiness. Getting up in the morning and not wanting to just stay in the bed forever every day of your life. Having dinner with your loved ones without thinking about your past or future suicide attempts. Going for a night out with your best friends without five minutes later sneaking in to the bathroom to cut yourself. Being able to stay in a moment of happiness, it might last for hours or just a few minutes, without constantly feeling the darkness hanging over you. Cause I wonder what that is like.

Sometimes I dream, fantasise about what a happy life could be like. A normal life with a tolerable amount of anxiety. But the thing is, I don't fit into that picture. I end up fantasising about someone else's life.

The thing is, not a day goes by without me thinking about suicide. Not just about doing it, and rarely any actual plans. Most it's just vague things. Like pictures flashing by, and I don't even know if it's me in those pictures. I make associations to suicide from movies and tv-show episodes that really aren't depicting suicide. For example, some character might talk about being thirsty, and I instantly start thinking about what killing yourself by drowning could be like. Or I could just be smoking a cigarette, one of those 40 something a day, and wonder if I could kill myself just by smoking in my bed.

The thought creeps in at any given moment, several times a day, hardly with me knowing it before hand. Anything, absolutely anything can make me start thinking about it. I'm trying to figure out when this started. But I think that it's always been this way, just more often the older I've gotten. I think it increased after my first suicide attempt, in January 2005. The first time I really wanted to kill myself I was 12, so that might have been when these thoughts started, but the topic had been on my mind far before that. I was the suicidal child that no one took seriously. Well, at such an early age as 6 I had no idea how to even go through with it. I didn't know what was lethal or not. That took some time to figure out.

I really didn't figure that out until just a few years ago. Of course I knew the principles long before that, but it wasn't until I was maybe 20 or 21 that I found out just how deep you need to cut, or just how big an overdose it's required.

Apart from me being suicidal like forever, I haven't always been unhappy in it's general term. Just tormented. I've had too much on my mind, too many feelings in my heart, too much longing in my soul. I think that maybe my memories of Dala has made me an unhappy person. That clinging to them, wishing I had never come here, always comparing Dala to this world, has made me incapable of truly enjoying anything in this life. Cause no matter how good things are, they were always better in Dala.

Yes, I have thought about that before. Even wished that I could take it all away, all those memories and start over without them. I don't wish for Dala to never have happened, I just wish that my reincarnation was more like other people's reincarnations: without any memories of it. Cause I think that then I wouldn't have had something so much better to compare with. Then I would have given this life a chance.

Cause that has been a problem. I never gave this life even the slightest bit of a chance. Ever since I discovered about my reincarnation, somewhere around age 4 to 6, I can't remember before 5-6, but my mother told me about my first suicidal thoughts at the age of 4. Ever since then all I wanted was to throw this life away. For somehow I discovered that by dying I would be able to return to my "real home" as I said back then.

A thing my mother told me just the other day or so, about a "Monroe Institute". A guy that remembered a past life much like mine. He described it as our (human kind) place of creation, our first home, where we all come from. A place of perfection and harmony. Well, just hearing about another person remembering what could most likely be the exact same place, kinda blew my mind! He's dead now, unfortunately, but I've been meaning to check out that website my mother mentioned.

I still cling to Dala, but as of lately I've been trying to let go. It feels like I need to let go in order to grasp this life that I'm living right now. Trying not to think about it so much, trying to move on. I should of course have done that many years ago, but it's so close to my heart, it's like it is every essence of my soul. And my soul is screaming, yearning, aching, bleeding to return. It's hard to ignore those heart tearing wishes that's been solely the number one reason for almost all of my suicide attempts. And I don't even know if I'll be able to return.

That is how strong those feelings can be, so strong that I'm sometimes ready to just throw away this life forever, even though I don't know if I would return to Dala. 50/50 and I take the bet, sort of. But most of the time, all that long time between suicide attempts, I don't want to take that chance. However, that is how strongly I still cling to Dala. Ready to kill myself for a childhood fantasy land.

So there was where it all started, so young that my very first memories hadstarted to take form. I shut myself away from the world, didn't want to be a part of it. It was a pretty good defence mechanism as I was bullied from my first year of school. I was antisocial, hated humanity and didn't want so called friends. I liked to keep my distance, until I started to like my future best friend. Realising she was one of few who didn't hate me, one of few who wanted to hang out with me.

I don't know for sure if she was the one who brought me out of my bubble, or if I just invited her into it. Maybe bits of both, cause when I started to train karate in a different town I really had started to crawl out from that bubble. And that was also when I first started to let go of Dala. I don't remember feeling unhappy in my 7th grade, maybe that was as close to happy as I've ever been. Before things started to fall apart again.

It's really gone up and down since then, but mostly down. I wasn't comparing so much with Dala as of what I can remember, didn't wanna think about it. Life fucked me over, but it wasn't because of my way absent past. I had lost faith in myself a long time ago, and almost invited bad people into my life. I'd rather something bad happened than nothing at all. Yes, I remember saying that when I was 14 or 15, and I'm not saying any of the horrible things I went through was my own fault. I'm mostly thinking about the rape, but not exclusively. I've never blamed myself for his despicable deed, but was it entirely on him?

I'm just saying that if I was confident and even cared about protecting myself, it's likely it never would have happened.

I was skilled in self defence and had been warned about creeps like him and that exact situation. Don't follow strange men home. Yet I did. It was even my own suggestion. It was like I didn't even care, like I invited it. But then it all went wrong of course, or it would have been a one night stand instead of a rape. But I did have it in the back of my mind. I did have it in the back of my mind already in the moment I asked if we could go to his place. I thought that there was a risk of rape if I went home with him. That's what I'm talking about. So it's not my fault that he raped me, but it's very much my own bloody fault that I ended up in his apartment. I'm smiling about this, so don't worry. I can be an idiot sometimes and years later I'm smiling at my own dumb choices. Practically over it by now.

After that, of course, I fell some more into my despair. Just months later I ended up with my first actual boyfriend, and we were happy to begin with. I was in love, so very much in love, and he loved me too. I had never had that before, and sadly, never again after. But that happiness only lasted a few months before he also became one of those creeps I had been warned about. The manipulative kind of men who wants to literally own their partner. Decide what I should eat, wear, weigh, do and who I was allowed to see and not. It took several months for me to muster breaking up with him, thought he could change. And I broke his heart but he broke mine too.

Shortly after our break up I re-realised the transgender stuff and I don't know if that brought me up or down. There was too much going on already, but that realisation couldn't have come a day too early. But some things got harder, I had to defend myself and my human rights all the damn time and dating became a hell. But at least I was myself, I was finally true to myself.

Once again I end up summarising my whole life, as if I didn't know about it already. As if I could ever stop obsessing about my own tragic life. It hasn't only been bad, but the bad out weighs the good and the negative feelings have always been so much stronger. The hell that I've been through, the hell between me and Anna, the hell between me and the world around me. That even if I try my best and hardest I end up failing, I crash on the concrete aching and bleeding. But I don't give up.

For some reason, despite all the chaos and darkness, I still fight and try to do better next time. I know that if I search long enough I will find what I'm looking for. In the end, and in the long run that is what I truly believe. And I have nothing, absolutely nothing to support that belief. That's why I don't think that I'm depressed, and perhaps I never even was. It's something else, all the other negative emotions except for sadness.

A common misconception is that you have to be depressed if you truly want to kill yourself. It's not true. It is believed to be the most common reason for suicide, but not the one reason alone. I've got enough reason and more. Missing Dala, hating the person living inside my head day and night, lovesickness, feeling incomplete and broken, being stuck in a limbo, anxiety, hating my body and so on. I've got reasons, but I'm not depressed. I want to die, but I'm not unhappy, not overwhelmed with sadness.

Being happy isn't just about happiness. I don't think that just by adding something to my life, that would make me happy. I already have too much to carry, and I don't think I will ever get rid of any of that. That is why I don't think I will ever be happy. It's not about what I don't have, it's what I already have.

Hopelessly in love

I just wanna say so much about my love, but I can't. Afraid I’d lose him as a friend, afraid of fucking up my chances on ever getting together with him. Who would fall for their stalker? I know I would, depending on who it was of course, but that isn't saying much. Since I know the nature of stalkers, that they aren't necessarily ill-willed or living in a fucked up fantasy world. That it's not like in the movies. Maybe “stalker” is a too strong word for me, I have considered that option. And I hope that if he ever finds out, that he would accept me and not be too creeped out by my obsession. I could always hope, if it was to come to that.

I just want him to know how I feel, but I want it just as much as I want it to be mutual. But unless he's polyamorous and I’m living in a dream world, that's not the case. Sometimes I wonder if it would somehow have been different in a positive way, if I had fallen for him in another time of our lives. A year or two ago, a year or two in the future. I might still be chanceless either way, but somehow it's a comforting idea that it could also have be or been fantastic. That it that could have be possible in some intangible alternative universe, cause then it's not entirely hopeless. But my hopes are low to be honest. Almost nonexistently low.

But even if I could wait... for him to fall out of love with his girlfriend, or for her to fuck up their relationship, it could be months from now, even years, or never. I have been lovesick for very long time periods before. If I could just keep this on a survivable level, I know it's fully possible for me to keep this illusion up for up to at least 3 years. Just keep that awful thing called “reality” on an arm's length distance, or something. That was a long time ago I had such long lasting feelings for an unobtainable person though, in upper school, and things have changed since then. I didn't talk to that person then, I was literally in love with an idealised version of them. I’m not that shy anymore, just socially clumsy and have a hard time reading people.

I just don't know what to do with this now. I can't just sit here and wither away, and completely lose myself in his amazing blue-green eyes. Why do I seem to fall for people with greenish eyes all the time by the way? That's like the most uncommon natural eye colour a person can have! Am I developing a more exclusive taste perhaps? Cute guys and girls in my own age with amazing eyes and amazing hair. No, now I'm just describing my true love again, but then why was I so cryptic regarding gender? Just my bisexuality sneaking around there, I suppose, thinking that maybe someday I'll fall for and actually have a relationship a woman for a change.

I've actually thought of that as a severely tragic solution... That if I can't get Him out of my head and heart, maybe I could fall for someone else, someone of the opposite gender. And because I haven't actually tried that yet. I’m a sorry excuse for a bisexual person... I’m not saying you'll have to have experiences in order to confirm your sexual orientation, I’m just saying that apparently my interest for females is so damn low I’ve never actually given anyone a chance. And that, is to me a fault. But I can't really call myself “bi-curious” either, since I’ve been in love with girls before. Oh what the hell... am I saying I wanna go for a frigging test drive to get my mind of Him?