I haven’t slept much more than a few hours in 3-4 days now.

I’m irritable and “tired” but sleep is fleeting.

I kind of want to die.

The Orlando attack and the people who support it sicken me to outrage. To say you would murder more people, to say you would do the same, to say they deserved it for something that is beyond their control. They have been persecuted for millennia & made examples of through public executions, being burned alive, hung, shot in the head, beaten to death, even stoned to death if we are to bring it back that far. You would think, if it was a choice, they would opt out of it knowing they will be killed, ousted from their communities, family, and friends. Treated with disdain & shown malice at the slightest hint of their sexual orientation. Killed by others because they do not agree with their values, their lifestyle, their genetic makeup. It is heinous crime. Hate crimes happen against people all over the world, but that should not diminish the outrage and pain we should all feel for this community and the struggles they go through day to day. They are hunted by people like animals & killed in abundance. For what? You religious values state that murder is a sin, yet you commit it with no hesitation against someone who does not hold up to your perfect little ideological bullshit of a world. You people sicken me. To think that you believe this to be okay, that it is just & necessary. What the fuck is wrong with you?

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 cant take this anymore. The waiting. The obsession. The never ending train of thoughts that torture me. I dont understand why I have this cocktail of mental problems that cause me endless stress and strain with no real solution. I dont understand why I obsess over everything. Over her. Why did she have to come into my life only to leave. It’s not fair.

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.

I want kids I’m just terrified I won’t be a good father and I’ll pass on my issues to them. I don’t want my kids to have schizophrenia or bipolar disorder or schizoaffective or depression or anxiety. I don’t want them to have a fucked up life like I do. I don’t want them living in constant fear of rejection or helplessness. I don’t want them to feel alienated. I just want them to be happy like I never got the chance to. I just want them to be happy and without worry.