Don’t wait for me to come home

The sheer amount of willpower I’m having to conjure out of thin air in order to hang on by a thread is staggering.

I’ve put SO many systems in place to order to ensure I don’t revert back into those dark places. From meditation to strict workout routines and showering and brushing my teeth on cue every day.

Now I have to implement polyphasic sleep schedules and strict diet regimes alongside ever more rigorous scheduling because I’m fucking slipping mentally and I don’t want to do that.

Gonna pour all my energy into bodybuilding and school again like how I use to do it back in high school. Absolutely crazy to me I was in better “overall” health the majority of my high school career compared to the last 4 out of it and trying to navigate life with no structure and a botched suicide attempt. You know for as much as I shit on school and hated it, just wow did it work amazing at keeping me grounded and goal oriented. Even dealing with being homeless and living in a group home for a little bit to living in abandoned houses, I still managed to find success.

It’s really weighing heavily on me that my younger self dealt with what seems to be more bullshit but somehow managed to accomplish more. Makes zero sense. Absolutely none. Maybe I’ve just gotten worse overtime but I don’t feel that way. Who knows.

I have to dedicate myself to learning & growing. It’s the only thing I actually enjoy even when feeling like I want to set myself on fire.

Also can’t get Lissa out of my head and that’s driving me absolutely insane holy shit. I didn’t think I was co-dependent but maybe I was just in ways i didn’t realize because there were facets I wasn’t paying attention to simply because what was going well was going amazing. To think I’m such a fucking failure, it hurts. It really does.

Sometimes I lie down in bed and zone out. Eyes open but I can’t see anything. My body being vibrating and I feel an awful sense of dread. Haven’t experienced anything like this in years. It’s weird it’s a strangely family and comforting sense of dread. Talk about mismatched and confusing feelings on the perspective of existential despair and an impending sense of doom and embracing it but not wanting to die. Make that make sense, because I sure as shit can’t.

Pretty sure I’m dissociating daily at this point. Time passes where I can’t remember what happened and there is a large time dilation where it feels like mere minutes when it’s been hours. Very disorienting and also depressing because that’s nothing but time wasted where I could be using that to good effort in bettering myself and situation. Really been tugging at strings in my brain and things are starting to unravel.

Can you feel yourself start to slip into the darkness and be consumed by madness? Or does it happen all at once? At what point does in switch from slipping to being submerged in and how can you tell if you’re at that point? If I hold on tightly enough to my sense of reality can I break free again and emerge from it again? Or am I going to need help? I don’t want help. If I can’t do it alone then I don’t want to do it at all. I don’t want to be dependent for the rest of my life. I’d rather die. I want to succeed where people tell me I can’t. I want to do everything they said I couldn’t. I want people to realize they shouldn’t have given up on me. And I’m never going to hold it against them, because damn I’ve given up in myself before, but it would be nice to be recognized for grasping triumph from the jaws of defeat.

Here I stand at the crossroads of life and death.

The road to life is a path devoid of hope & full of death that is full of crags and pits in destitution.

The road to death is a path of life and ecstasy floating between clouds in the mountain tops.

Weird how the end destinations differ so much from the journeys of which to reach them.

War

I stay to myself mostly because I am scared i am going to hurt someone. I see it constantly in my head. I just snap. Whether it be for no reason at all, or because someone was threatening me, or someone said something i didn’t like. A life or death situation, a house party, in the middle of a classroom. I scare myself because I know its possible. I don’t know how to stop feeling this way, so I imagine if I was put into those situations I would act how I imagine. I envision it constantly. Murder, assault, heinous acts of violence committed for seemingly no reason than I wanted to do it sometimes. In that very moment I wanted nothing more than to hurt someone. Even if it was for good reason, life self defense, I take it to the next level. I am brutal in another sense. On a different level of reality. People think it stops eventually but it doesnt. I go past turning a head into mush and literally crush the concrete underneath it. I don’t stop, I cant stop. I have this endless pool of rage i tap into and it fuels everything I do. I control it until I snap. I usually restrain it after I’ve had my time and come back to reality. But i don’t know if I’d stop when faced with a stranger. I don’t know if I’d stop when faced when caught on an off day. I wouldn’t stop actually. I know I wouldn’t because i can feel the energy of it. It is unfathomable. Its not possible to know the vastness of it. Its depth. Its reservoirs are constantly being filled past the brim and spilling into every other aspect of my life. It swells like a maelstrom during a thunderous rain. Two currents of seething rage fighting one another to be the dominant force. A fight between mindless, explosive rage and a cold, silent, calculated one. It never stops. Its always there, present in every movement i make, every thought I have, every ounce of my soul. Its there, making its presence known but never taking over. It taunts me, knowing it can overload my senses and turn me primal at any given moment. It knows & it relishes this. It feeds off my fear of what I am capable of. Two different aspects of power forged into one entity, capable of destroying everything in my life. A force so malevolent and vast it blocks out any hope for reason. There is only rage. Only hate. I can feel it slowly encroaching on my sanity. It blots out the sun and casts shadows on the stronghold I have built for myself. I have worked tirelessly to create something beautiful and full of love and hope. But i fear that I have not worked hard enough to counter balance the rage i have inside. This fear only amplifies its potency. Sometimes I fear i will never be able to create enough love to dilute the rage and make it manageable. Splitting it into two separate entities does not strike me as a solid plan. One day I am trying to destroy the world and all who reside in it, the next I am trying to rebuild it. It doesn’t make any sense. The only way this turns out good is if I somehow manage to create and feel enough love I can hold onto and keep it from shattering under the staggering weight and strength of what haunts me. I am not religious in the sense that I follow no religion, but I do believe in higher powers. I believe in God. I just don’t believe that God is all good. If man is made in the image of God, although imperfect, how can these imperfections be so deep and evil. They stem from my soul. I did not willingly create these demons, they just appeared somehow. I did nothing to summon them, nothing to influence them, nothing to cause them to maliciously attack me very being and attempt to corrupt me. How can I be made in the image of god when some aspects of who I am naturally resemble that of Lucifer. Was it just mere chance or was I just doomed from the beginning of time. Maybe I am meant to be an example of contrast between good and evil. The perfect being to showcase the natures of both love and hate. Maybe it is my destiny to be the perfect example of the realities of good and evil. The embodiment of God And Lucifer. Two forces fighting for control of helpless human beings who have no knowledge of what truly goes happens on a higher plane of existence. Perhaps I am special and because of that I am doomed. Made to be a example of for meddling in the affairs of that which I can not hope to understand in full. In my mind i see scraps of information, filtering through archaic nothingness only to stumble on something not meant for my eyes. It is my belief that we are all capable of this. We just don’t understand the nature of ourselves. Once we begin to understand we are destined to be overcome with stark contrasts in emotion and a sense of impeding death that is always around the color. Once we begin to understand we are punished. The living are not meant to understand the shortcomings of human nature, nor are they meant to understand the extent of which we are capable of. We are supposed to be sheep, being shepherd by the religions we follow, the demons we fear, the gods we wonder at in awe. Once we stop being sheep they try to bend us to their will through force. They do everything in their power to break us. Once we break we either kill or kill ourselves. We lose all sense of meaning in this world and turn primal. Our minds liquified into incoherent thoughts, fear, paranoia, rage. We don’t come back from that. It is why I fear myself so much. I am constantly on the brink of annihilation. Of soul crushing defeat. Of committing heinous crimes against my fellow brethren and sisters. Of losing myself in the midst of all that is going on inside my mind. The constant turmoil. Of rage turned hate and solace turned a deep fondness for love constantly contending with one another, vying for the ultimate triumph. I am so very confused and feel myself slipping. I am not sure how much longer my soul can take. It is in constant anguish and I feel this frustration creeping into every aspect of my life. Even of love. I feel like I am losing myself.

I have visions of whats to come. Visions of nothing but loss and anguish. Visions of death and despair. Visions of losing everything only to lose more after.

I see myself holding a gun to my temple while telling my SO I cant do this anymore. I see myself having breakdowns in front of my children and seeing terror on their faces as they wonder in confusion and horror whats wrong with their father. I see myself being divorced. I see myself losing my job and my home. I see myself losing my family. I see myself becoming alienated from the world. I see me losing the last bit of myself I have left. I see me attempting suicide only to fail and try over and over and over again. But I can’t seem to die for some reason. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to just do it right. I fail at that just like everything else in life. I think its punishment for hurting the feelings of others. For being sick. If I wasnt sick then nothing bad would have ever happened. If I wasnt sick I wouldnt have lost so much already. If I wasnt sick I wouldnt have the girl I loved so much leave me. If I wasnt sick I wouldnt be scared of myself and lock myself away from the world out of fear I might snap. I wish I wasnt sick. I didn’t ask for this. I never wanted to be distant. I never wanted to have a raging storm of emotion and an endless crevice of depression lurking under me. I never wanted to not be able to communicate and I never wanted to have the only way I deal with stuff to be to ignore it and bury it. I never wanted any of this.

But I got it. For some God forsaken reason I was chosen for this. I don’t know why. I never will. Somewhere deep inside my head where the voices stem from, there lies a reason. A purpose. A voice that will silence them all. A voice that will silence even my own. A voice that will take over who I am and remake me. Every time I reach for it, the other voices become overwhelming and violent. I start to see people for the demons they are. I see anguish in the eyes of everyone and it just gets so overwhelming and so vast before my meek soul, I crumble and parts of me that have died before die again. I suffer so much for no reason other than to suffer. It makes no sense and I can’t seem to change that. Nothing makes sense. Nothing really ever has. There was a period of about 3 years where 1 thing made sense, but thats all gone now.

I’m all gone now. I’ll be back, just to relive hell once again, and I’ll continue to do so for no other reason than I am meant to. I hate it. But its all I know and I dont know how to learn anything else. Every technique I’ve learned that I’ve tried to apply to my life has failed miserably. No therapy has worked, no meditation has worked, meds only seem to stem the voices from being constant, but they are still there. Mocking and taunting are common occurrences that are random but far in between episodes. I feel so lost in this heavy mist of demons and despair. I feel like I have died and gone to hell, and maybe I am dead. Maybe the reason I’m not getting better is because I am dead and am meant to suffer for eternity now. Maybe that’s why nothing makes sense. The voices i hear are demons, my own voice is a tortured soul, and the once that is locked away is redemption and a way out. That kind of makes sense I guess. In a convoluted and depraved desperation kind of way. But my thoughts are often depraved and my thought process convoluted. And I am desperate. So maybe this is what’s real and I’ve simply been dissociating in order to cope with the reality of my situation. Souls are bound to be complex. It is the essence of what makes us different from one another. Why couldn’t a soul, which is what makes up our conscious and personality, create itself an alternate reality where it runs away to or uses to cope with the distress it suffers from. So maybe I am dead and suffering for eternity and I am simply reliving my life because the suffering I face here is nothing compared to what I am going through currently. Spiritual warfare is an interesting concept I don’t necessarily believe it, but i suppose it could be true. It is no more far fetched than my idea that God is a tyrant who abuses its power and manipulates us all to its own will for its own amusement. I don’t necessarily believe that, because I don’t want to go to hell if there is one, but I think its good to question everything and have alternatives in case everything comes to a spearpoint and turns out to be falsehoods.

Honestly I just want to die. If I am already dead then I want to die again. and again and again and again so I don’t have to feel how I feel anymore. I committed no act so severe to deserve punishment like this. It isnt fair.

Visions

Over the last couple years I have had what some claim to be dejà vu. A feeling of having been in a place or experiencing something before it has happened. My mind tells me that it is a fallacy and simply your brain making sense of a situation and having neurons fire and synapses connect. However, part of me believes that I actually had dejà vu. I did see something before it happened in my mind. Part of me knows things I shouldn’t. Or do I really? I don’t know. Nothing makes sense right now. Has it really ever though? Im afraid I don’t remember anymore. I can’t differentiate between whats real and whats not. I cycle in and out of psychosis seemingly conscious of it but only realizing when I’m back in my body.

My visions lately have been violent and brutal in nature. I’ve had night terrors of death. Death of myself, of people I love, of people I hate. Of everyone. I’ve seen the apocalypse from start to finish time and time again, I no longer question when it will come to pass. I’ve seen in my minds eye what is to come. Nothing but death and damnation, torment and pain on a scale that few can even begin to imagine must less comprehend. It terrifies me because I feel like I am the only one being given these visions. I can’t tell if its demons or if its God, or both simultaneously.

Sometimes I feel like I am chosen to be someone of importance. I know its all nonsense right now, but sooner rather than later, I go back to believing it again.

My dreams, sometimes while I am awake and staring at the void in front of me, have been increasingly  violent. I kill people. I enjoy it.

I’ve always wondered what it is like to take another life, and if I am being honest, I don’t fear these thoughts. Some people deserve to die. Why should I not be the one to do so? I am chosen by God or by demon to be someone of great importance. I know I am, but I know I am not. I am at war with myself and I can’t tell if its with my psyche or my soul. Everything feels out of place yet everything feels like it is falling into place. Im so confused.

My last dream was about murdering someone who has wronged me and others I use to care for. He treats women like shit and deserves to die for his transgressions. In my dreams I kill him. Sometimes with guns, other times i literally tear his head off. Its always the same time of year though. September. With that time approaching I can only wonder if what I see is going to come to pass, and if so, will I get away with it? I fear these thoughts but embrace them wholeheartedly. Something is wrong with me, yet I am okay with it. There is a switch in my head that is broken. I just don’t know what it goes to.