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.

I woke up dreaming about you. I haven’t been able to recall a dream in so long… the entire premise of this trip was to get my mind off you and yet all I’ve done every day is think about you.

It’s sad really, all I want is a hug from you where we share locked eyes and you run your fingers down my hands as i softly stroke your face. It’s the only physical intimacy I’m craving lately. I want to be told I’m loved.

I went to a waterfall yesterday. I took a path down where people have died by falling off the cliff side 200 feet below. I did it not because I have a death wish but because I was willing to do whatever it took in order to see the beauty from the ground and because I wanted the memories of doing something others had failed and even died trying to do.

I keep that same energy in relationships and with you until lately. Now I just miss you constantly and all I want is a text asking if I’m okay or recognition that you maybe miss me a little too. I won’t ever get that.

I think I’ll miss you more before I start to miss you less. I won’t let myself start to hate you in order to get over you, I’ll keep loving you inside my mind because you deserve that. I won’t let feelings of desire taint and ruin the real love I feel and felt.

I won’t let that love ruin any future prospects either. It’ll turn to an ember, and there’s no reason to try and douse it or put it out. You’re the only person I actually thought about seriously having children with. I’ve had juvenile thoughts previously with the last ex, but I was also clinically insane and couldn’t keep the thought of killing myself at bay for more than a few minutes at a time, so I think I’ll let my thoughts on that relationship continue to wither away because the only reason it worked was because of sex and because she was the only person to show me love during one of the worst periods of my life until you came along and just wanted to make sure I was okay and wanted to be a friend.

Hopefully things get easier soon. I can’t imagine waking up dreaming about you every morning for the next 6 months. I’d probably go back to drugs to numb my brain.

I miss you. I love you. I hope you’re doing well and I hope you’re healing and I hope you’re moving along better than I am Lissa. I’m really sorry we didn’t work out because of a simple failure of communication during a time when we needed to be open and honest the most.

Life & Death

Why is my self worth & worth to lovers tied so closely to my fiscal success and the ability to physically provide? looking back and reminiscing it pains me to say I’ve had questions surrounding that notion pointed my way even though my job at the time averaged $40 an hour, although it wasn’t a long term investment job. It really fucking hurts you know. I promise I’m worth more than money. Why was money such an important make or break that it overtook anything & everything else I was willing to provide? It hurts so much. Really just makes me want to commit to financial success damning all the rest and disappear forever after the fact is known I made it.

Disappearing after military service gets completed does sound so nice to be honest. I spent all morning crying fantasizing about it and how shitty everything is. It’s weird how suicide seems like such an easy out but I absolutely despise the idea now for myself. After coming so close those years back, I really don’t think I’ll ever attempt again. Suicidal ideation is weird now because death and the idea of it seems so pleasing and like release, yet the joys life brings and the success I want to have literally destroys any notion of wanting to die. Dying before I finish what I want to do is my biggest fear in life now. I guess my “obsession” or ideation about dying now is much more figurative or metaphorical in the sense that I want to distance myself from my past but also move past it and the best way I can see for that to happen is to “kill” myself. My memories, my past, my habits, my name. Anything tied to my past failures. Not necessarily running away. I don’t want to run away. I think healing is a life long process and it’s unique to everyone.

Forgiveness is one of the biggest things to be achieved in order to let go and be happy. Unfortunately forgiveness is not something I offer myself. I’m letting my failures define who I am instead of dictate how I should forge forward in order to succeed. I don’t know how to let go besides erasing who I am and starting anew. I really don’t feel any attachment to anything or anyone currently. Or maybe I do and it’s so strong it scares me so I force it away and suppress it because I’m afraid of all those relationships ceasing to be as well. Things are okay if I end them on my terms, or so I think. I’m not sure yet if it’s the best notion to believe that being “in control” of how things end is actually beneficial to my mental. Things seemed easier when everything was ambiguous and there was still a small flame there. I snuffed that out and the last facades of light are slowly fading from vision and the cavern is going all black. Metaphorical death I think is on the horizon.

You know how even when it’s pitch black you can still determine different depths or shades of darkness ? That’s currently how it feels. Everything around me is dark, & looking toward the future, that horizon I see is even darker. Is darkness really such a bad thing though…? I’m terrified of the dark, but should I be? Imagine being at peace in the dark and while lonely. Imagine finding the ability to remain hopeful or happy when all around you there is nothing but shadows and death. Is the death of who you are and ego really something to be fearful of? The things I like about myself I can always find again. The good things can always be reforged.

I think being able to remain bright and bold when there is darkness lurking that threatens to consume you at a moments weakness is something I’ve failed at before. Maybe it’s not the dark around me that I’m afraid of losing to but the darkness inside me I’m trying to keep from escaping that is shaping my perspective. Maybe it’s a mix of both. There is this core inside I’m trying so hard to keep lit inside of me. I can sometimes almost feel tendrils wrapping around it. I’m wondering how long I have to nurture the Phoenix before it deflagrates the entirety of the darkness inside. I’ve got a suspicion its going to cause a conflagration in my physical life as well and some relationships will be too scorched to salvage at that point.

Does love drive people mad or is it grief? You’d think people would want passionate lovers and friends but passion can turn to obsession and jealously so insanely fast I think passion is the ultimate failure of the human emotion spectrum of left unchecked. I’m so passionate about giving all the love I deny myself to others that when I find them sad or lonely or depressed it becomes my main prerogative in life to let them know they are cherished and loved and appreciated. I will stop at nothing. It’s an insatiable hunger and desire with such intensity. Seeing people light up and their faces change, their auras exuding newfound confidence and hope, their demeanor changing to one of hopefulness. Hearing genuine laughter, noting real smiles. Have you ever noticed people smell differently when actually happy? Seeing this and helping people achieve this brings me such great joy and happiness that is so momentary and fleeting it becomes such a depressive vicious cycle. Imagine doing everything in your power to help someone succeed & then they want to help you and you refuse because you don’t think you deserve it. And eventually they get tired of the constant negativity surrounding you and your inability to do for yourself what you do for others. They leave. Because they don’t want to go back to the place they were before. I don’t want to leave the place I am. They don’t leave me behind, I usher them forward and close the door. Eventually the knocking subsides and I’ll open it back up, only to find nobody there anymore. & I wonder what the fuck is wrong with me.

At some point in the future I will cease to be. I’ll disappear. I won’t want to be found until I can look at myself and not see the sadness and anger lurking inside.

Content

Talking with my therapist today made me realize that this girl who I thought was the best thing to ever happen to me was only that for this chapter in my life. There will be a girl who I meet who will be the plots zenith of my story. What I lost may be irreplaceable, but that is not a bad thing. What we had was inherently flawed, and that was my fault. But something new will happen and come into my life and it will be beautiful beyond measure and have me feeling elated and so content with life I will remember now and how I felt and it will be comical. I am glad she taught me this lesson, and I still find joy in the memories of our relationship, but I realize now that is was not my books zenith. It was the high point of this particular chapter and the end of that relationship was the low point. I am on to a new chapter of self discovery and reinvention. A path of creating new bridges and forming new bonds. I can only thank you for being what I needed in my life at this time of weakness and keeping me afloat. You may not be the best thing that ever happened to me but you are one of the most important. & for that I will always remember you and keep a special place in my heart for you. It may not be the one I thought it would be, but it is there none the less. I will always have love for the girl who broke my heart and whos heart I broke, but it is a love that is thankful and one that is memorable. It will not be slow burning and an ember like I thought it would be for so long. That is reserved for someone else in my life, and for the first time in my life, I am excited for the future.

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.