Painted with sadness

I am thinking about you and about breakfast in the morning and how I was always too high to eat it, and you made it for me.

And that kills me, because however much you and I hated each other at the very end, there was a time when you really loved me, or her, who you thought I truly was, thinking this part of me was addiction personified or something.

I really loved you once, in the way someone would love their best friend, because at one point you were my best friend too, and her boyfriend, and then you didn’t need a running buddy anymore, and wanted to be alone with her, and that is just not how it works, we are one person with two personalities.

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I will follow him
Follow him wherever he may go
And near him, I always will be
For nothing can keep me away
He is my destiny

Are you claiming to be a god?

No, I am saying I was doing what the universe told me to.

I pushed a fox out of hole, and he died because I am selfish, or was anyway, I think someone ate him.

The streets of this country are riddled with screaming, every street corner, ever cover of darkness, is surrounded by the screaming criers of the night, who scream in languages only some can understand.

They talk to me, clearly, not her name, but meaning I understand them, and they speak to me in plain English, because that is the language of the country I am in, unofficially.

We talk of survival, not manipulation, but survival, of who is the best person to ask for money, who will likely hand over a dollar, I am good at this, good at awkward prolonged eye contact, I help them, my fellow nightcriers.

I miss them dearly, clearly, not her name, **** her name.

They are just like everyone else, except their lives have been riddled with danger, and because they are addicts they used or drank about it, and the judgement of others, bothers me endlessly.

I want off this ride.

I want to know when all the consequences of my life will be over.

I want to know anything at all.

I want control and I know this is not possible.

But I want it so bad.

What? I am really stressed out about this tooth thing.. I am the one dealing with it most of the time now, so leave me alone please.

Okay, fine.

I think I am doing pretty good. I haven’t lost my mind yet, and have only been slightly pacing around talking to myself.

I think you are doing pretty good too.

Thank you.

I appreciate you dealing with things I can’t.

The creature under the bed is me

I used to have this hate for this one cat, that poops in the bedroom I sleep in, that is not mine, so I had no right to be mad at the cat, but I used to think he was doing it to me or at me, because I am ****ing insane and everything is at me or to me.

I now remember something hilarious.

I have vomitted in almost every state in the US, in front of people in broad day light, when I was homeless we used the whole world as our toilet because we did not have inside bathrooms.

I am literally this cat, and have metaphorically done what he is doing, I just have to clean it up because I am metaphorically cleaning up the bed I made.

Facts.

You are in every memory I have for seven years.

Staring at me, with hatred

Hate red

Hate read in every action you take towards me, every moment of every day daunted by daunting distrust, by judgement, and pain, that was partly my doing

But

Also yours, and you could have left any time you wanted by the way, and I left all the time, and you followed me.

The over-inflated discolored balloon, of shame, disdain, and madness

I saw you looking at me the whole time, like a medusa, the snake that you thought I was being images cast out of my own head, to scare you away.

I am past this in a lot of ways, but everything reminds me of you, and what I thought you were, because you are in every memory I have for seven years, and I wonder how much of my mental illness getting worse was because of that.

The Cleansing Power of Looking Up

I met a young person once, who I am not sure the age of, he was strange, he was completely blind, and carried around a walking stick, unable to admit it was because he had gone blind, he told me it was because it had magic powers.

You look familiar? Have I met you before?

I went with it, because what else was I going to do.

He told me that he could use electricity to make things levitate, and in the chaos of not sleeping for days on end, I almost believed him, crazy the things that lack of sleep do to the mind.

I am a rotating planet,

Not important, just overinflated with air

I am so self-important.

I don’t even care.

There is someone there, who has bad intentions, because they are simply there, and everyone has bad intentions.

There is someone there, and I don’t like them, because they have bad intentions, because everyone has bad intentions.

I am afraid of myself.

I am afraid of being back in padded rooms, which I have been in before.

I am afraid that whenever you help me, it is one step away from the constraints on my arms to help myself.

Control myself, accept the things I can’t change…

I ruined my own life, and I am trying to fix it, and people are trying to help me, stop ripping their heads off with words.

I think everyone is out to get me, because I am an idiot, or that is what it feels like sometimes… both of those things alternating not simultaneous, never simultaneous, unfortunately…. not yet at least. I can never remember when under insane delusion, that I am prone to insane delusions and that as much as it seems like people are out to get me…. just realized why my ex’s hated that wording… they are not out to get me..

That kind of sucks.. because now I have to admit I was ***hole fighting the universe my whole life. I did the right thing and apologized, and it was very humiliating.

Peace.

I loved you once, but now I can’t and I don’t want to, so I don’t

I loved you multiple times, and still do, and I am just trying to be honest with you

Hey, ***hole, you’re talking to a glass.

I know…

I think I have a problem with peace, consumed with moving, digging perpetually beneath, unable to stop and not do, wishing always for something new, I can’t sit still, that is why I think I was obsessed with you.

Dragon eating its own tell, possessing nothing was just as well, I live in inner Hell, because I can’t bring myself out sometimes, uncomfortable with peace, living in internal, eternal, infernal mind bind.

I tied my own hands, behind my back, because I feel being free, and love the feeling of under attack.

Living in perpetual lack of self.

Bottled emotions of alcohol on shelf.

I can’t be myself, because myself was built around you, who am I even without the drugs and booze I used to use???

See there was nothing to save, I was right, you were wrong, and you saved yourself from watching me slowly rip myself into a thousand pieces. I didn’t want to do anything with my **** life anyway.

I am getting better, and I don’t need you, anyway. I can do this without your help, because you never understood… I kept saying over and over I am done, and you would want to go out and have a drink with me. I can’t ****ing do that responsibly, and I told you that. OVER and OVER and OVER
and you insisted you could teach me how to drink the right way????

I don’t want to drink anymore **** it. I am doing this now, and you are still saying you are worried about me, and you are still using????? HOW AM I THE BAD PERSON????? STOP CALLING ME.

THIS happened two weeks ago, de Soto.

No one calls you anymore.

That is not true, I have friends…. just not her. Just not her.

I said kill me baby, would you please? I am on my freakin’ knees, begging honey would you dare, let me touch your pretty hair? I love you baby, don’t you know, do you really have to go? I want you badly, miss you greatly, have been thinking of you lately, so I say honey please answer me, I miss you so, won’t you please, please, please,

PICK UP THE PHONE

Don’t leave me here alone, I am sorry, I was drunk, I didn’t know what I thunk, I don’t know what I said, I was silly, soul so dead, please call me back back back

My soul I attack attack attack, tell me what I said, to make your eyes, oh so read, please please please.

I will stop drinking **** it. I swear I am done. This isn’t fun anymore.

I am so ugh….. I don’t even know… I embarrass myself constantly, this is so hard. I am constantly anxious, I can’t sleep that much, and then other times I feel like I am on top of the world. I guess this is why I used to sedate myself, because I sound like a lunatic, and it is really freaking embarrassing. I just can’t put this nowhere, so I feel like here is better than out loud, because then at least, I don’t have to hear myself. I just want to know what it feels like to feel normal. I have never felt that way in my whole life. I am so done with all of this, but it is not out of my system, because I am still so **** insecure, it is embarrassing.

I wish I could just shut my brain off sometimes. I can’t even do that when I sleep, and I am nervous because I don’t want to do this to myself ever again, but I don’t know how to feel without this intensity. I don’t feel without the extremes. I wish I could be one of those “let it go” people, but I am not. I am just not, and I can’t keep lying because I know I will just drink or get high if I do that, I see that now… and I ****ing hate how the drugs and booze made me feel at the end. I hate who they made me be, I hate what addiction did to my life. I am trying to move on, but this is so hard, and the longest I have ever been clean and sober since I was 18. I am 35.

17 years. Of this.. on and off.

I am so done. At the very least I have that, never again. I don’t want to drink/get high ever again.

Damien/Amanda

I don’t know why, but night time makes me want to cry. The loneliness is so intense it radiates through my whole body, feeling like they cut out a vital organ, which is sad because the only vitality I provided you was not vital at all, but fatal, and I done with being a malady, parody and obscene joke that is just your ticket to free toke, poke, or smoke. I hate you so much because you call me all the time, and I never answer and it has been a year and I still wish I could answer, and you would be who I thought you were, and not the soul sucking drug addict leech that cared more about getting high than going with me to the hospital, so you told me my hand wasn’t that bad and I trusted you and now I am missing half my right thumb and I am right handed.. and it kills me, because I have to see it every time I write… and you knew that.. so stop calling about the type writer..

I feel like crying..

How would you rate your confidence level?

Either one or ten, no in between, going back and forth minute by minute, based on reflections on pain and suffering or me being selfish or kind, over and over and over and over all day, presented on the internet for the amusement of the viewers of this blog because it makes me feel better and is part of a larger recovery process, and experiment with trying to grow as a person.

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Ticking time Expose

I am the mind of Damien de Soto.

I am the mind of the reckless psycho.

The path of the fool traveling in the dark, the tale of the one who twists and turns in light that is stark.

The act of wondering why you hate yourself while glorifying ego.

The walk in the park and shot at a flying bald eagle.

I am offense at everything you say, and the desire to simultaneous desire to defend everything I say.

I am addiction to stop but also to addiction to go.

I am yes, but also I am no.

I am bipolar, I am paranoid. I am insane.

I am addicted addict with no drug, and now thinking brain.

I am ****ed and painful but no longer lying, I am crying, screaming but at least learning and no longer dying.

Peace.

I am watching TV with my family, well taking a break from it for the second, to write to you, whoever you are. My family being my real one, not the one I lied about.

I am sorry for that. My friend told me that honesty is important. I think I was making myself worse, but I am really sad, and I wanted to have something so bad I made it up, and then ran out of things to say about it, because I stopped needing it, which means I am getting better I guess… I have started helping my mother, with starting a business reselling things, I am going to start going to therapy. I have friends now… I just go back and forth, and fantasy is a way for me to escape. The thing is I have a hard time with the whole powerlessness thing. I don’t like it, but someone I know was telling me just being honest with myself helps. I think that this is where I should start. My friends thought it was funny that I found it easier to pretend to be a serial killer online, than to say I am an alcoholic/addict in recovery.

I just have so much rage at those who took advantage of me at the very end, that it was easier, making myself into some sort of masked avenger. I am not that, I was just and am just an angry lunatic with drug and alcohol addiction who disowned their family to live on the streets and commit petty crime to fund my addiction.

That is it plain and simple. I will reveal more in poetic metaphor because I am paranoid because I have mental problems.

Damien

So sorry I have no choice but to not pay attention to what I say fighting to go away in my mind, while I speak my voice sounding like awkward door creak, screaming cry or breaking glass, pound on floor, or kicking ***, awkward and unpleasant I am, I don’t know why anyone stands to be around me at all, why they won’t let me heed the siren’s call of death that comes to me in night.

I don’t know why they want me to stay here, just to fight with myself and with them, stupid ideas pushed by the desire to defend nothing but my desire to be right and to be in constant fight, desiring only to hurt and push away so alone I forever stay, everyone please go away… I can’t handle you in any way.

I am weak and you are not, my temper is quick, it make me rot in corners where I sit alone, hate voices and hate the phone, I don’t get it. You say you do, but how can you, that is not true. It makes no sense, it really doesn’t… Sometimes I wish I simply wasn’t……

You killed I will make sure your blood is… oh that’s right you don’t have that because you have no legs to stand on, no place to land on, and need me to hit any vein at all, you can’t even make a call to get sauced or star crossed so get lost! My eyes are mine not thine, and I am no longer resigned to die, because I like life. I am no longer addicted to human strife, no I am addicted of stab pain with KNIFE, but I can’t do that so… because that is not real, and I am no longer a prisoner of feel,

I am now becoming more real, no longer need to steal or lie, I can take out your stupid eye or can’t I because you don’t have one. You see through me, which is sad, because I can’t see clearly, is your vision blurry ****? Her’s a fix, get in ditch.

End transmission.

I am trying so hard to deal with everything, I have never made it this long without drinking/using in my entire life. I am not saying this because I want to do it now, I don’t… finally. I have to learn to get past everything that kills me, for those around me if nothing else. I think that is the only way I can learn to make sense of any of this, it is insane. I am not sure why I did not die while still using/drinking. I do not think it has anything to do with me deserving any of this.

The only thing I can think, that I am coming to think, is that this made it possible for me, in the only way I can to change, so that I can finally do something worthwhile, because it will be the first thing I do for another human being, genuinely, in my entire life, if nothing else, I just want to do something to make my existence worth the pain it brought into this world, to make it up to the universe for having spared me specifically, because I really really appreciate that, and do not deserve any of it.

Love,

Damien

Where would you go on a shopping spree?

I am a lunatic, with no fear of consequences, it is called run through the store with cart, grab everything and then make them chase you out. It is also a good way to get banned from a lot of establishments. Kidding.

I am a lunatic, with no fear of consequences, it is called run through the store with card, grab everything and then make them chase you out. It is also a good way to get banned from a lot of establishments.

Heh. I make myself laugh. I just woke up to the universe playing a prank on me, there was an episode of one of those SVU kind of shows on about a guy who’s house burns down and there is 10 grand worth of fireworks in it. It was a hilarious way to wake up. Thank you universe. I love this prompt too.

I would go to a Walmart, Target, BJ’s or mall sort of establishment, that way I could grab a bunch of everything, and I would grab a bunch of everything. Expensive food, cheap junk food, random old toys for five year old kids like Gak, notebooks, candy, clothing, camping gear, microwave pizza, Christmas decoration, basically anything I can find that is cool because I have had literally nothing but the clothes on my back for the past 7 years of my low bottom addict life and I appreciate every item I find.

I am amused by everything as well, not just items. I am very grateful to have survived the hell that has been my self chosen allegory of what not do life.

I go on shopping sprees now anytime I have spare cash, and spend my money in local establishments to pay back those in society I wrong, by the way.

Damien

I am doing good today, I am having fun releasing rage through positive messages, I think it is better for me to do it this way. I have learned to laugh for the first time in my life, I am able to look in the mirror for the first time in my life. I can finally eat without wanting to throw up. I am doing so much better, but also prone to doing so much worse. I am learning to love myself for the first time, not in the way I was obsessed with myself before, but just an acceptance, and I think the best part of it is, I am getting farther and farther from the place I was that drove me to use. I don’t miss it at all.

I have even tried to romance my drug and drinks of choice, which sad to say were any of them, and it makes me sad and sick. I am so thankful most of the time, at the very least for the clarity of mind to be emotionally honest, and work everyday to be better, even if I fail at least I am trying, honestly for the first time in my whole life.

Thank you everybody, my higher power included, as always I am reminded of how much I owe this to everyone who helped me, especially those on this blog community. I love you and do not even know you, if you ever need me, I am always here.

Love,

Damien

I feel like the decision to seek professional help is going to help me going forward. I am learning through getting to know her better that my daughter is a lot like me and I can’t bring myself to keep doing this to her, because whether or not I like it she is watching me do this to myself. I know I have a right to feel anything I want about this, but sitting on the floor wallowing in self-pity propelled by self-loathing is not the answer either. I am thinking this might actually make it possible for me to maintain some kind of progress and move on with my life.

I might be able to finally do something that way that is not so entirely self focused. I am going to make an effort to try to be less selfish in any way I can, which means I am going to have to give up on the excuse of it being just the way my brain works, because if that is true I would have to say I don’t want it to be this way and I would try to fix it anyway. I don’t want to be a source of worry for my family anymore. I want to try to be someone they can turn to, as well as someone who turns to them. I owe them that if anything.

I am so sorry for my outbursts and for making anyone watch this, if you were watching it. I forget I am not alone on here sometimes.

With love,

Damien

I have been a basket case all day, up and down and up and down. I am so exhausted, that I just can’t do this anymore. I am resolving now to try and move on. I am accountable for everything I did. I know this, but I don’t think suicide is the answer, or rather I know it is not. I can’t do that to those around me, and I have been driving myself in the opposite direction today. A lot of what I have posted today, has to do with me flipping out because there are no meetings today, so even though I have my family… I am very much alone in my own head until Sunday, church helps me. I don’t know why I have to do this to myself. I am driving myself crazy, and I don’t have to, but my brain does it anyway. I am really starting to think I need professional help. I am getting my other affairs in order and then I think I am going to start going to therapy.

I have finally reached a point where I can safely admit I am no longer able to do this with the resources I have, as helpful as they have been. I can’t keep doing this to myself because it is painful for those around me to watch. I keep trying but then my bipolar defunct brain keeps sending me back and forth and it is maddening. I am a lot of the time incapacitated by my own inner demons. I wish I could stop, but I think it may be time for me to admit I need professional help.

I just hope I can do this.

I am so tired of the back and forth hellish roller coaster I have been on.

I don’t want to do this like this anymore. I am sorry to anyone who worries about me. I am trying really hard.

Love,

Damien

Amanda, wasn’t that the name of the villain in that book you read?

Yes, see my point? Cool name.

Psychotic name choosing strategy.

Yeah, says the guy named Damien, omen.

I am named by you as well, and jerk my name is cool.

I know I named you ****.

****

Enough of that, I really liked Cal in that book too. I don’t recall the name of the book right now, but the author was brilliant. I am on a mission to find all the weird horror authors on library carts that are selling books for a dollar, and save them from the trash because even though I like the kindle, these are free, and easier on my eyes and hands.

Peace in peices,

Love you

Damien