feeling of death

it's an interesting thing to be on the cusp of losing consciousness and not being sure if you'll wake up once it's gone. just one more time, won't it be? for all that I could judge, I'd say this is worth it, love is.  I figure if something  is meant to happen, it just is. I love my friends... so much... I feel like I'm being pulled down out of my body, no help within range, no energy, I can't speak, I guess I have to wake up somehow, at least I know no matter what we'll always be together. I hope this is okay later, almost can't type, ot after so far tghough, not nothing,can't keep eyes open have to close <#                        enter now,
I love you                                                        

Why do I feel so invisible?

Talk about motifs....

please, help me get out
 I can't take it much longer
 but you don't see me

I hate depression
 I hate this loneliness more
 nothing can end it

This is nothing new
 drowning but not submerged
 not much time left now

but still here I am
 staring at my ceiling fan
 no more denial

I know you don't care
I don't expect people to
 turn away from me

I expect nothing
 expectations get betrayed
 I am a shut in

what people don't know:
 I refused to ask for help
 so I've nearly died

though I once had friends
 my ties have long since been cut
 I feel nothing

I don't know why I stay
 I don't have any reason
 I can't make one up

but why should you care?
 I'm just a stupid person
 ruled by emotion

maybe I should leave
 'cuz it's all I know to be
 a screwed up nuisance

people will mock me
 but I don't care anymore
 no more can be lost

This is what I'm like
 when held by a fraying cord;
 my reality

Burden of Truth

reaching out to nowhere
grasping in the darkness
if it can't be seen
was it ever felt?

I know the night better than most
as my voice echoes through it
sometimes it seems as if it whispers
back to me the things I couldn't say

walking aimlessly, what comes with daybreak?
exposure to the difference you can't quite escape
serene and still, despite what's coming
intermediary state of twilight, between then and there

suspended above gravity, outside of time
do you wonder where your core may truly be?
Outside of yourself is one thing,
implosion into infinity, atrophy

what had yesterday brought?
confusion, pressure, necessitating direction
it couldn't have just been left as one day
peace splinters to bring about new growth

these ideas, feelings, thoughts
the grace of time's passing helps them decompose
potential returns, not yet exposed beyond that place
between the then and then lies an ever-evolving memory

is the present a gift or a burden of weight?
turning inside, away from question and strife
returning the transitory phase, not losing sight
I'll leave it for the moment to decide.

Truly and sincerely

I wish my depression wasn't returning. This is really a horrible, horrible time... but that's probably the reason it IS returning. I'm under a super-massive amount of stress... Honestly, nobody knows at all. That's... not something I have the ability to communicate. Suicidal thoughts again though... really... I just feel my shoulders slump thinking about it... if nothing else a release of tension, only to unconsciously return once I'm aware of... ._.

Meaning is something I struggle with, even still; a reason to push through the pain of the experiences... a constant battle inside of me. Some people I know are aware of that, but nobody realizes how close to the edge I frequently am. I fantasize about being beheaded, I close my eyes, lay back, and imagine being decapitated and how lovely it would feel in relativity to my current state of existence... I could just leave. I know death doesn't hurt... A large part of the issue is that I don't fear death... is that an issue? I stay for egocentric reasons, anyways... personal happiness, yeah I'm human... entitled to happiness? Entitled to suffering in equal measure... but do I want that? I'm weary of change, constantly on the run and ultimately aimless. I'm just wandering here and waiting for what I already know is going to happen.

It's funny because as I listen to "The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions" by In Fear and Faith... I listening to the lyrics talking about the funeral; I feel like half-laughing, but I hold a grimace. The only reason that'd be funny is because I don't imagine it like that at all. "Familiar faces, worn out places" as Gary Jules sang... and the future isn't even a terrifying prospect for that reason. For years this thought has lingered in my mind,

"A lifetime of this, a lifetime of this, a lifetime of this... is this what you want? A lifetime of this..."

Rarely does the looping end... it's always there in some form or another... it's so relentless, yet I have to be ever more listful, compelled forward until then end.

God, I am so tired. 

The only hope I have left, the only reason I have is my friends, depression takes everything from me, even them... It takes everything out of me, all hope, my energy, my mind... I've made damn sure that if I ever do go, people will see it coming and know there was nothing that they could have done; it's the truth.

Augh, thoughts of self-injury again... why does this keep happening lately? Is it just the stress?

...

Mental association, that one connection I had strong that was so strong... is that it? Similar qualities, post-traumatic stress, old patterns of thought brought to mind that I had been conditioned into and promoted towards? Why... does he have to come into my mind. I just don't want to think of him. I don't want him there. Is it shame? Is it fear? Why does it stick? I tried my best, I... didn't know, I ... still have trouble believing those things weren't my fault, but I can't afford to think about it anymore. Despite that, it keeps dogging me down... I don't want a brain right now... at all.

Is it true caring? Why does it have to be so terrifying? I'm trying to work past the "It's not worth bothering phase" and I knew it wouldn't be easy... I have so much trauma to work through... I suppose this could be considered normal. Even still, this is so dangerous... what I've been putting myself through without anybody being aware of it, with the aim of recovery. It's the only way. I have to do it. I have to be strong enough; it's that or death. Still, I didn't choose any of this... I'm not a victim, I still have the power to just throw up the white flag and give, and as long as I'm still living, I guess I haven't done that... regardless, I need change... quickly. Even though I'm tired, I need it so desperately, and other things I dare not confess to other people. Sanctuary? Backmasked as always, how else could I hope to be honest without such intense anxiety? A greater possibility that I will remain unseen, even though being seen is exactly what I need. I need a hand to help me out of this place, I am blind. I don't even seen the light, I need guidance... I can't pretend if I want to live. I have to get past this somehow... It's easier to give up. Just the few good things vs. all of the weight pulling me down, I could just sink. But those good things, those people...

Synchronicity again..... "I Need You Now (How Many Times?)"... a song I never heard, by chance I just saw, listening, okay... not even unusual anymore. Music always coincides, whether I have the song at the time or not... it always comes to me. I've been the hero too long...  Submerged, would I die from suffocation or hypothermia more quickly? I can picture both, the imagery of translucency... that chilling to the bones. Is it because I'm already there? Is that why, despite its quality being so opaque, the vision is so clear?

What am I supposed to do? What could I do? Should... shouldn't enter the picture, oh so ironically, but it does... shouldn't but does? Play it off, shrug... no... stop. Frozen. Am I that deep now? An airpocket, or is time, itself, freezing?

...help, please, help.....



































..............but who possible could? How could I ask, expect for there to be a possibility, hope? No more... I can't. Not now.

? when was this even

Positive spiritual development?An ever growing sense of empathy; understanding; always acknowledging our own flaws. To see all people; things as significant entities,identifying relevant ideas expressed which shape our life or shape our impressionable state of conciousness. All is one; one is all. We appreciate all details, knowing each part was necessary to contruct the specific product. We understand our potential;using our power,time,and ability for maximum efficiency.We know greater things are at work, but lament as we can only teach what we know. For example: with each ounce of pride we "earn", it was also given. So we're obliged to contribute back to society, while enjoying the pleasure that comes ienevitably as more goals are met, and positive momentum accumulates. Equal and opposite. For all pain we recieve, we have faith that there's purpose; whether it be to direct us in a new direction, or to teach us where we need to focus or have been led astray. In the midst of a great fall, you anticipate a great climb past baseline

:\ empezar

I found out one of my friends is going to be leaving Facebook soon, deactivating her account. That puts a great sadness in my heart, honestly, especially considering what she means to me. I couldn't ask for her to stay just because of my personal emotions, anyways, especially if I know that'd prevent her from being happy in the long-run. Maybe we could be penpals or something of that nature.

It's weird, because I'm not really all that used to being attached to people... Kind of figures it'd happen when she elected to be my sister, though. And I told her minutes before I'd always wanted a sister.
Such is life.

Virtually nobody...

...really realizes what I do on a daily basis. How many people have I helped today? I helped one person who was mourning the impending death of a loved one, another who was mourning the loss of a relationship, listened to somebody speaking about their frustration about their living situation, another about the release of the worry of their friend and their self, another person about their depression and suicidal thoughts, another person about their father's illness, dealing with the aftermath of an article I've published and responsibility I've taken on, sometimes I just want to shut everything out. Even right now, I'm being spoken to by a friend. Do people think I give them my full attention, that they're the only thing that I could possibly have to think about? That they're my whole reality?

Oh yeah, then there's my friend moving back to Fresno and telling me about her classes. At least we'll be the same class together. Honestly, though, why do I do this to myself? It's so funny, because from another person's perspective, they think... oh god, and that reminds me of the other girl that was complaining because she said I was ignoring her =_=

WHY?

I'm already dealing with illness... At the same time, I realize it isn't all about me. I beyond know that, but I have to watch out for myself, I know...

...well, at least his self-esteem is back again. I lower myself to raise them up so frequently. School is quickly approaching...

This is becoming such a fast-paced existence... Is that what I want? I seem to be handling it okay, despite the fact that I'm virtually physically dying, roflmao. 30lbs in a month... from not being able to eat. It's such a weird gap between intention and inability. I know I SHOULD be able to do something, I get so frustrated I can't just do it through sheer willpower, yet I can't... like with my social anxiety and OCD. This time, it's anorexia. Not Anorexia Nervosa... I am pretty secure about my weight, generally speaking. I came to the conclusion health outweighs weight a long time ago, and I'm pretty damn fit... at least I was until this past year. Marching band is coming up in a month, but in this condition...

I can't sustain myself... at this rate, I won't even be able to survive, let alone do anything else. I can only lose so much body mass between things start going south VERY quickly... pfft, as if they haven't already been. Disassociation is a blessing and a curse, I suppose. I would be in a remarkable amount of pain right now if I could feel it, I imagine. Well, several people have the same intuitive conclusion of what it is I'm dealing with based upon my symptoms... something I was pretty much expecting for anyways.
It's the one bad thing I haven't had happen yet: cancer.

The doctor didn't even really have to inquire much further past the standard questions, considering I answered each one with "yeah" and she didn't even bother saying why she was doing a blood draw past the full blood panel my psychiatrist recommended I get immediately... like a month ago. Thanks parents. Hahaha...
Several for the lymph nodes. I am positive I have all of the symptoms of lymphoma, excluding one, which I may or may not have (I don't have a thermometer).
I'm certain she knows that, too. She probably realized I'm predisposed. She did have my history on record, after all...

Anyways, not that losing that much weight is a bad thing, I just hope it's fat, lol... I kind know it's not, though. What worries me a bit is that I don't know where a tumor would be. Most likely it's lymphoma, considering I've had almost all of the predisposing illnesses... or almost all of them, and have all of the symptoms specific to that cancer, but my lymph nodes aren't swollen like before... My lung and sinus infection is clearing up as the rash is spreading and I continue to lose weight, becoming further malnourished, but... shit, does it have a specific place, or is it the leukemia type? Because that would suck. Horribly. I'm not too fond of the idea of radiation of any type, period. I'm hyper-sensitive to shit like that. ._. I'm not really worried about dying despite my body pretty much expressing the signs, because my intuition is saying it's going to be okay, I just have to wait for things to proceed, but still, that's kind of annoying. Assuming my intuition is right, and assuming I lose my hair, I'm totally drawing on my head >:D I'll have an excuse to. It will be so badass, but this weight loss thing... it has to end. It has to end soon. It's progressing far to rapidly. I have faith it will end, but I guess I'm just kind of impatient. I want to know the "how" about things... I already know the "why?" at this point. It's funny how I still even want to deny that much. It's not even a bad thing...

My fate is to experience these bad things for the sake of the consequence, and I have long resigned myself to it. There's nothing else I'd want. I gave up my free-will long ago... I guess that allowed me to see past the illusion of it sooner, and I suppose the consequence of that was peace, once I knew how to see it. Pistis Sophia and the Philosopher's Stone... The endless cycle, transcending the peak and resolve, and synthesizing... bridging... 

It's shocking to think people would want to know me, but then it's not... I knew this was my fate. I knew it since I could know anything... I think some do realize what my reality entails... how it relates to their own, and what's coming.

Still, I've got to remember the short-term, too... that's where I'm deficient. Though just as real as what I know is coming, I have to sustain myself... unless this is the critical point approaching. I don't feel it yet, though... and now again I'm reminded that the beauty is the willingly unknown. That's what I chose. That's why they exist. I'll always know love is the why... for better or for worse. It's been a long metamorphosis.

It seems like a tangent, but is it really? Only to everybody else, I guess... but I wonder how far they can see without bridging into what only I've known this whole time. Maybe I don't give enough credit to other people. In some ways, I must not...

Krista tried to talk to me tonight... it's the second time today I've had to turn down the invitation to converse. I really am exhausted. I don't feel like talking to anyone... I barely feel like talking to myself, but at least this gets the thoughts out of my head, even if it physically hurts. The physical pain never seems to outweigh the emotional. Goddamn arthritis. 

I still wonder if being honest about my concerns is the right thing to do or not. I used to think it was selfish, but now I'm realizing that being honest about it allows me to show others it is possible, while I'm living, to be strong throughout my struggles. I've faced so many things alone that other people aren't aware of... they don't even understand my process of coping. It's not surprising I feel alone so often.

...and yet ANOTHER person tries to start a conversation.
....................

Well, there's an example of my introverted characteristics. >_>
So many things locked inside, I need to get them out somehow... self-injury comes to mind, but no. I can't return down that path. I slipped up not all that long ago, and now I have a new scar hidden away from the eyes of the world. I wonder how many of those I have at this point... Way more figuratively than physically, but the physical amount, I'm sure, is astounding... yet I don't count these things. Too many times have I fallen, bumped, scratched, bruised, bled where nobody can see. If I were to cry every time, would I have time to do anything else? It's necessary to retain some level of distance from that pain. I'll save my tears for the very end or take them to the grave. They're a waste of time. 

One thing I can happily say is I haven't been suicidal lately. There's a lot of irony in that statement, because of all times, you'd think this would be the worst in terms of my mood... Nope. Bi-polar disorder, you're such a troll. I'm bound to crash, I just hope it isn't soon. These things I can't really know, either, but there's also no point in dwelling on things I couldn't possibly know. I guess these questions just come and go... and that's okay. Everything is okay.

I remember when I was little... I used to be scared that if I closed my eyes, people would think I was dead, but more significantly, that I wouldn't wake up. Trapped in a perpetual nightmare... I don't fear that anymore. The irony is that there's not much left to fear, because I've been through virtually all of it. Even death, itself. Whatever life brings, the truth remains. Whatever I believe, I am the truth, even if that truth doesn't exist. Semantics don't matter... these utterances are lulling me to sleep. The sound of my thoughts echoing, more meaning lost with each phrase the essence is limited by... yet more falsity is created. Giving is taking, receiving is being gifted.

Now is a time for sleep. To my subconscious cocoon I return.
Home.

Echo...

I am truth.
To be trapped in ambivalence, words seem like sounds, sounds are chaotic, then the question arises: just where is the meaning? (I am truth)
If there's none within, none personal to give, then the question becomes "Just why do we live?" (Is it a choice?)
Sometimes there's a wall there. (Is this an illusion?)
Sometimes there are two verses being sung, yet you don't want to be limited by your perception of the judgement of others. (Are there others?)
No, on the contrary, you are quite alone, left only with yourself... (Can I be heard?)
You project your voice, and only hope for even so much as an echo, something depraved, even corrupt, because in the void there is only you. (Will this make me real?)
Eventually you even start to believe the lies, left alone inside of your cage; the system... (Is there any actual escape from truth?)
Falling into delusion... or is it awakening..? You start to question the validity of your own voice, when the echoes begin to accumulate, rebounding endlessly, and every time you try to speak, disproportionately do those ringing sounds drown you out, til you aren't the truth. (What is truth?)
You're still the slave to loneliness, but now those sounds you hear seem to become more like voices, and they begin to overpower your own. (I have a voice..?)
What is there to do, then, when you don't even know what you're truly a slave to? You become a songbird. (Maybe I always loved to sing; maybe I was never trapped...)
Further into delusion do you fall, because delusion is your only hope. All echoes take a life of their own, but now you have another to play with. Something not of yourself. (I love...)
You cling desperately now to those voices, now songs, but they always seem to go beyond you, beyond your understand, beyond your threshold; those which, even through your relentless pursuit of transliminality, they fade against your will. (If only I could reach a little further, hold a little tighter, maybe they wouldn't leave; maybe I wouldn't have this... feeling.)
In the act of creation, you splinter truth. In denying the whole, fragments you attempt to grab will turn to dust. Still, you try. (I am losing...)
Yearning so deeply, you will be abandoned; eyes fixed on illusion without, ungrounded, with no care for what is within. (It won't stop.....)
Your voice is weak, the echoes are gone, too tired to sing, the symphony you illustrated comes to a grand finale. Silence is the harmonizing feature of a beautiful song. (I am lost.)
Memories resound like echoes, playing over and over until they, too, are senseless. The purpose of a beginning is to have an ending. Something was real, but it wasn't you. (Now I understand...)
The sense resolves into chaos as truth begins to to emerge once more, taking you under, into its calling. (...)
... (I am truth.)

I tend to forget things...

...pretty easily. It's been a problem since I was little because it was a survival mechanism I had to access frequently. Pretty quickly I forgot the pain of yesterday, but it's true what they say.. The initial wound may heal,but scars never fade. Sometimes those scars hurt, and it seems that,like when you are hurt deeply,there is a reccurent ghosted throbbing,even if only in memory. This is probably it.. I may or may not be bipolar, but there is pain below the surface that byfar surpasses anything I could feel in one given moment. Pain that has accumulated over the passing of years and that I fear I will never be rid of. It comes to surface randomly.. and I,many times, can't say from where. I have forgotten, and this I will not forget. It's a shame,though, that when it breaks across that fine line it can ruin my moment,the present, the future..

Is this all a product of my psyche? And if it is, damn me. Why would I put myself through such unnecessary torment? It's not a concious choice, anyways. If I could end this, I would. I've tried and failed, and been reassured that this is something beyond me.. something that I can't completely alleviate on my own,or at least not through the courses of action in which I had engaged in. I don't like to be weak and dependent. I don't like to not have the answers,dwelling my own ignorance without direction..
Others say the first step is always acknowledgement, well OK. I did that.. I did that a long time ago. I can try to stay positive, and yes, I do my best. I've even tried to disregard it,sweep it under the carpet so to speak, but when the dust-bunnies clump together,pretty soon you have a monster and you can only wonder how you got in so far over your head. It's a scary feeling :\ I'm just glad,above all else,that I'm not there anymore.
My whole life, I have been warned, this will be a very significant part of my truth. Pat told me that my challenge will not to be overtaken by my depression.. that is the single biggest challenge I will have in my life.

According to official statistics, about a million people die by suicide annually, more than those murdered or killed in war.[35] According to 2005 data, suicides in the U.S. outnumber homicides by nearly 2 to 1 and ranks as the 11th leading cause of death in the country, ahead of liver disease and Parkinson's disease.

So why don't people consider mood-disorders a war of their own esteem? If you're a survivor of a physical war, it usually surmounts to dumb luck, but if you are a veteran of this type of internal war.. it is a result of courage and preserverance. That, I think, is worthy of being honored.

Graduation

People keep talking about how we're seniors and we're going to be graduating and how "Oh, it's so great".. all this crap.. but you know what? I don't even know if I'm going to make it to then. My mom ordered my cap and gown and
[evidently I fell into a coma not long after]

without regrets

There were some important things I had to learn this year.. like learning to let go. It has always been hard for me to know that I may actually care for people more than they particularly care about me,at least it was until I considered it in a different light. When somebody addresses their own need, the fuel mine. That's what allows this universe to function as it does..

"Everybody always says to live life with no regrets, but when you do,they get mad.."

It's like you can focus on hearing spoken words, or you can focus on the meaning behind them. You can focus on an individuals action, or you can focus on what they may have intended. You can present yourself like an encyclopedia, used only when those in need seek, or you can present yourself like an ambiguous excerpt, implying you have more meaning than you actually do.

.....

Use me, discard me like trash, tell me I am useless since you took all the good in me, tell me that I was nothing more than an object, the value to be drained at your disposal. Tell me.. tell me that you lied to me this whole time, that you were just like all of the other people who put such complete faith in.. tell me that this is all I meant to be to any person who could every come to mean anything to me for the rest of eternity. Tell me that I'm doomed... that this is fate.. Tell me how this is all my fault, had always been my fault, to blame myself, that I should be ashamed of myself.. Please, tell me I'm wrong, oh, so wrong..

Understanding our natural preferences had, at one point, been as natural as breathing, yet so much conditioning got in the way, and so much "knowledge" was acquired that would corrupt our intuitive judgment.. our understandings of our understandings became corrupt.

Desperately I try to retain whatever insight I have in my blessed moments of wisdom, try to remember "the truth".. and I guess the truth must be that we cannot always know the truth. We may not always understand the truth, but the truth will still exist. We may not touch,smell,taste,breathe,see the truth.. but it may be understood...

But what am I trying to do with my words and ways? Am I putting faith in her words or actions, because both have failed.. or am I putting my faith elsewhere.. Am I investing in my intuitive judgment of her nature? My beliefs are something I can maintain,regardless of changing circumstance, so in a way, if I were to put my full faith in her, judging initially that she is one pure of heart, and then considering that judgment a constant.. then no matter what mistakes she made, if she was truly pure of heart, the original pattern of behavior should persist despite the random errs of human nature.


Well, I need to remember it's okay to forgive myself for what I misjudged. It's natural for people to make mistakes.. and I can only justify forgiving myself, justify loving myself, if I choose to forgive and love others,as well.

... tell me I don't understand. tell me I don't care. tell me I'm wrong. tell me I don't love you, and that you're truly all alone. tell me I'm just a liar. tell me this isn't killing me. tell me those things if you believe they are true. I will swear to you they aren't.

Nobody really realizes...

How at risk I truly am. I'm trying; I'm trying desperately to figure out what it is I need, but I haven't found it, and I'm running out of time... I have limits. I can only withstand so much... I am about to meet my humanly threshold, and when that happens, nothing can stop what will happen in consequence. Nobody can. I'm just waiting to die, anyways... I guess it doesn't really matter, after all. I'll stop soon. They say insanity is going something over and over, while expecting a different result. I've been insane, trying over and over to find something that probably doesn't even exist. Something that won't exist in time.

"Something I wasn't sure of,
but I was in the middle of
Something I forget now,
but I've seen to little of..."

here we go again

I guess it must not really be new...

I keep thinking I just suddenly became this way... forgetting over and over... Forgetting I forget. I make the same mistakes, and I know it's necessary, but will it be the death of me?
    5/2010
"...but my intention never was to hurt her. I've never intentionally acted specifically for the sake of hurting people sadistically in my life. Especially not those I love... I don't trust myself, however. I'm so self-absorbed all the time, how could I possibly show real love? I'm just an inconsiderate moron, so wound up in their own affairs that they don't even notice themself becoming the very things they so strongly strive to oppose. What would she prefer? Me being honest, or me being a good friend? How could she appreciate and love something so disgraceful when everybody else (including its resident) would disown it? I know she is pure, kind and strong, yet... what would it mean to hope for love in return or to ask for it? I think it's wrong... selfish, despite its honesty... or maybe I've been wrong all along. I need to sleep. I need help from my dreams."

Why do I end up back there so frequently? I can see how deeply woven into my internal concept this motif is... very much at the core.

5/2010
"I know I must forgive her, them, us... So I'll pray. It will be a prayer of utmost sincerity... They couldn't have known what it meant... It's not their fault... It's a fault of the process; the negative that must exist for there to be love... for there to be love... I will be proactive... One day they will learn, and though it does not bring me comfort to think that they will suffer, too... I know they must learn their own lessons, just like I must... Yeah, that irony smarts a bit, but I just need to laugh it off."

This was over 2 years ago... both of these entries...

5/2010
"There's really nothing anybody could do about my feelings (or lack thereof), but Pat said I should not isolate myself because it gives no positive memories to draw strength or hope from, but...
I don't personally feel love, don't truly know any reason to fight for it, and it's like never even existed. Nobody could make me remember then, and all I know is pain. All I knew was the pain of ours that they wouldn't even know..."

...and yet another,
"Meh, Sara says they do care.
Sara contradicts herself with her own words.
Sara doesn't see the irony of being objective.
Sara couldn't know in this way, I shouldn't blame her.
So who is at fault, if anybody?
Aren't I the judgmental one?
In what strange universe am I superior?
In what deranged mindset am I different?
I fear this is all I could ever know to think,
I'm scared there's no purpose in learning."

I wrote so many poems...

"Nothing
there is nothing
that could help it
there is nothing I lack
nothing I need
nothing I want
but I'm still here

I don't even want to think about it
I want to not think

I don't want to do anything
which means I want to do nothing
and when I say I don't want it, it really means
I want to not want"

I'm so fucking done.

I'm tired of this bullshit. Life is bullshit. Yeah, this is the ego speaking, but guess what? It was never my real self to begin with. I'm tired of suffering every fucking day without reason. I'm tired of pretty much fucking everybody and everything. Except my cat. Sad that an animal is the closest I ever came to feeling cared about or dare I say loved. Better to die sober. Just to prove how fucking spent I am. I don't care about peoples' expectations. Yeah, I let them down, I let you all down, I don't care anymore, I can't care anymore. I have no reason to live; I'm done pretending I do. There was no meaning; I knew that. Make one up... I'm done. There is no point. NO POINT. I've been in pain for years, over 50 psychiatric medications, tried to kill myself so many times before. I will not fail this time. It isn't an option. Especially not the way I plan it. I will be dead. I don't care. I don't care what people will think about this. I don't care if it hurts. I DON'T FUCKING CARE. I should feel this, and I should feel that; bullshit. I'm not killing myself for the sake OF hurting people, I'm not killing myself to run away. I'm killing myself because I have no reason not to. I haven't had one for a very long time. No more running away... I'm gonna die anyways in the future, so what does it matter? What does my stupid life even mean to anybody? I'm socially isolated and I don't care. I don't fucking care. Everybody leaves. Now it's my turn. That something I needed... it was always just out of reach. Always; torture. I'm done with people pretending to care. I'm pretending not to. Now to make some final... I don't even fucking know. Wrapping this whole bullshit existence up and tossing it away with my life.

I said I'm making progress...

...but is it really the truth?

  I'm so depressed right now. I know my depression hasn't been as bad as it could be, otherwise I'd be considering suicide more seriously right now, so I guess that's good. Looking back tonight, however, at my past and questioning if coming out of the coma, into a world of difference, was the ethical thing to do for everybody else and myself. All perceived good AND bad was the product of that, and I'd been able to say that was justified to think it simply balanced out as an equation, but then it occurred to me today... that's not the best analogy. For some people, life truly isn't fair (in their perspective)... Would it be more just to return? Was it wrong of me, despite the good intentions? The Pistis Sophia.. This place of suffering and prosperity that I ended up; the product of my own decision to deviate... is it my fault? I know in the end, it all adds up to 1... truth... It began as one, and it doesn't matter how it fractures, it's still one in total, but did I taint it?
  How many are suffering and have suffered, because of me? Will those who have suffered... no, they'll still deviate, despite time... because they're me. My life isn't really necessary in the bigger picture, whether I live or die; I do this only for myself, consider all as an extension, knowing no true damage can be done, yet I gave birth to this illusion through... love. Is love ever a mistake, or is it an illusion? I... know, good or bad, or neither, it's my fault, but then what is the purpose of illusion? Was I deceived? In the end, she return, Sophia did, through admitting her fault... Was this a wrong, to make the other side right? But it's neither... isn't it? How much is dogma, how much is illusion, and why... can't I see beauty? Without it, my intuition is blinded, and I wander aimlessly, purposelessly... I could signify the turning point; the return... but... is that what's best?
I hate how I have this much power because of what I discovered. I hate it.
It's not about me, I know that, but I don't want this responsibility; I don't know how much longer I can handle it.

Maybe I should meditate, yet the storm in my subconscious continues to grow... will I be engulfed in consequence? I'm so frustrated, I want to cry... I feel like I'm forcing myself to live, despite suffering, for no reason... 


I told my friend I wasn't suicidal... I lied... Without beauty, despite this knowledge... I need help. Some sort of help. I'm back to where I was... knowing I need something, but not knowing what it is...


"Something I wasn't sure of, but I was in the middle of,
Something I forget now, but I've seen too little of..."


I'm way worse off right now then I want to accept. I know how close I am to the edge, and how little it takes to cause a domino effect... not much at this point. 

Too many things...

There are sometimes things I want to say; so many I doubt I have the capacity...

Just too much.

So much has changed since I last posted something, but I found a note today... I guess it was from a couple years ago, and it really made me think about things. I guess that's where I'll start.

"4-27-2010(Tuesday)

It's really coming down to the final run, isn't it? I'm not even sure what I'm going to do yet, or if I'm even going to make it...
 It's horrible, isn't it? I have so many things I should appreciate in my life, so many people who care and probably love me, but it can't change the way I feel... oh, the joys of being bi-polar.


So what am I going to do? I'm still running out of time with every second I sit here waiting... slipping away. So much anxiety about possibly making the "wrong" decision, like I carry the weight of the world, though logically I know it isn't the case. What I know is rarely what I feel. I'm so out of it


There's something I know I need, but I'm not sure what it is... Do I even belong here?
             "If you want something, just ask."
If only it were that simple... if only :( 


Clearly I'm pretty powerless right now, limited by my own pride and ignorance... my arrogance.


No, I'm not okay right now... not at all. And it won't stop the feeling. Nothing can stop this feeling... Alone and surrounded... Have I always been alone?


I have to see past this, I have to, or I'll just end up hurting myself again, worse probably...
~
(later that day)
It really doesn't hurt to die... I know this because I have almost died... it would have been so much easier... than this...
~
(later that day)
Meh... So begins the next event. I think I may feel slightly better, but still not very much, and I still would much rather go off on my own and be apart from everybody else."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Looking at my drafts in my blog, that was they day before a suicide attempt. Then I remember Kenny, and the conversations we had the days before his suicide. I revisited them yesterday, knowing that I had to, even fearing what I'd find. What I learned is I did try everything I could... My humanity limited me. It was a period of time when I was very sick, and dealing with the symptoms of Lithium toxicity... I... hope those couple days leading up to his act; I hope... if I had been there, it wouldn't have made a difference. Based upon the way he was talking, it wouldn't have. Maybe that's part of why I was shut down too. I... was preparing. Distancing emotionally. That's what I always fall back on...
I remember now that I had recently been homeless, too. Huge stress on me, already... I was depressed myself.


I guess I'm kind of down today... I wonder if it's as bad as it was then. I can never seem to tell because I don't know how bad it is until I act on it, and I can't tell when I'm actually at the threshold between thinking and doing. I never really talk about it, anyways...


That note was from before I had ever been admitted to a psychiatric ward... I honestly did not believe I would make it to the age 18 back then. Even now, I don't know how long I'm gonna make it... It kind of feels like I'm living, waiting to die. Waiting for the pain to end. But what's the point? What's the difference between that and dying earlier? 


I help people, sure, but it's not like it changes me emotionally... It's not even because it feels good... It can be really tiring sometimes. Like what happened with Kenny.

Shortly after Kenny committed suicide, (when I was already dealing with suicidal ideation) I was date raped by somebody who was supposed to help me cope emotionally... Lovely.


So then, as if this is a shock, I tried to kill myself not long after... what WAS weird that it was subconscious. I took my sleep medication, then after it put me into a state where I wasn't consciously aware of what I was doing (like how ambien makes people sleep walk), I overdosed on two bottles of pills. I woke up and I was so confused... I didn't even know what happened. I didn't remember anything. I still don't. I just knew I was depressed... there were obvious risk factors, but to subconsciously want to kill yourself... subconsciously..... I think that gives insight into something pretty profound.

Hallelujah...

Things have gotten crazy. And when I say crazy, I mean by my standards...

That's saying a lot.


My health is getting worse, I've isolated myself, I'm unmedicated, my parents virtually hold me hostage in my own damn household. I can't even write about it anymore. Thinking about the whole situation is too exhausting... that's as far as I could get, I'm sorry.