I no longer know what the goal of the site is, I write horror fiction, and love letters to myself.
This site is a tool to facilitate the act of seeing clearly, written by hands that used to hurt myself.
Explanation: I am Damien, I speak to my split personality Amanda. I am two people in love with each other, and I am okay with that now.
I have paranoid schizophrenia, narcissistic personality disorder, bipolar II-manic/depressive- rapid cycling, depression, anxiety, hydrocepholus, narcissistic personality disorder suffering from alcoholism, drug addiction, alcoholic. with OCD and PTSD- was addicted to heroin, meth, crack, alcohol, cocaine, prescription pills.
I am drug addict/alcoholic/dual diagnosis/ex-homeless person.
Through dark horror fiction I rake the muck of the lives of street addicts.
Or in plain English this is an epic poem/novel about addiction told about low bottom addicts in horror style.
Tag: adult with imaginary friends
I am not sure why you didn’t come with me, baby. I thought you wanted to go, but you decided at the last minute to stay behind. I think it is okay, you seem to have gone through the same mental changes, so it does not matter that you didn’t go, so don’t feel bad.
I am sorry, I was on pause, I got scared. I was not able to..
To bring yourself to admit weakness? And you thought I was?
Explanation: Fictional life of future self, because I am hurt, broken, and need fake reality to love me, more than I love myself. I am so alone right now, I need fake things. I am sorry.
I have been debating how to present this, now that I have revealed it again as fiction. I am an adult with paranoid schizophrenia, who created Misery for me as a reality that I exist in as future me, with my daughter Joy. Fiction or my hopes and dreams.
I am so glad you gave me this back Amanda, thank you.
Sometimes we need to do things for ourselves that may not make sense to others, take it or leave it.
I am sitting on my floor in a place that was given back to me. I am alone, but it is coming back to me..
I feel like crying because thank you, god. Let me just think about this because it makes me feel better. I am so sorry it does, it is lies I tell myself because I am so alone.
In this universe… I have people, or one, not no one.
I need that… I am sorry.
I am sitting on a floor in my house and transported back to Misery now.
I can pretend she is the next room if I want to. I don’t want to be alone anymore, please don’t let me alone anymore.
Misery Loves company.
I am sitting in a motel in Misery, crying on a dog bed, and my daughter is the next room, because I am insane and need this to be real but fake but real but fake. ____________________________________________________________________________
I have spent the day crying because I don’t know what to do, I was alone because I was ignoring people I created to feel not alone. I am going to go back to pretending they are real.
I am sitting on a dog bed, and I can finally hear her breathing again, which means it is okay for her to be real again to me, because I am real but need the comfort of being unreal at night when I am so alone.
I can finally hear you breathing again, and it means my best friend didn’t kill you off in her imaginary life that is my life too, or a story about redemption.
Fiction- future manifestation-
She hasn’t talked to me all day, because I yelled at her, I yelled at her because I was having a bad day, and she was having a bad day, I spent the day alone, sitting around feeling sorry for myself.
I am real, Joy is not, but joy is real to me. So Joy can be real for now, because otherwise I might die alone, because I can’t deal, you don’t have to understand, just let me have this…
She touches my shoulder and I am alright for a second. She walks into the next room and I can hear her breathing, and I thank everything in the universe that I am back in Misery with my fake life for now.
I am dying inside. I am so sad. I need something.
I like someone being in the next room. Please come back,