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.
She’s a family member, and I am Fruedian Slipping, and I am a liar, and the girl I am a part of is Crazy.
You are such a jerk.
I know, but it is called telling the truth, ***hole.
You are the ***hole.
I am telling the truth, so I don’t CARE.
Okay, fine, you can be okay with the fact that you were pretending to be dating my mother, who is your mother.
Ahahahahhahahahah you are a lunatic.
I am Macbeth.
I forgot which one of us is you again.
I have been courted all my life, to dance with loaded gun or held knife at my Neck, by myself, on a shelf, which of course is what I think because, baby I ****ing stink, I smell booze, in heart and soul, still drunk but dry, sometimes I know.
I reek of anger, creaking madness, rocking back and forth epic sadness, dark reflection, not staring at mirror, but bashing crashing and dying in epic fear.
I am loaded gun, I am dark resistance, I am tragic, insistence, that though I am dry, I am GOD. I am responsible for divining rod, punishing me, I am insistence on trying to be my own
Soul forsaken, breaking me, tragically, beginning to see how epic my failure is.. or simply that I am an addict who needs a higher power.
“Wherever they burn books, in the end will also burn human beings.”
– Heinrich Heine
EXPLICIT CONTENT: Post uses poetic analogy for the addict backed into a corner and told to drink, when this happens we sometimes attack like a killer or a vicious dog. This is metaphorical only, I have only ever killed anyone with my silence, not saying anything as my friends died in active addiction. These are allegories in all gory glory.
We are in a basement, a base meant for debasement of everything I have ever come to know to be true about myself. I am looking into the eyes of a woman who I used to know, I still know her, but I am choosing to forget this right now, not now but then.
Rei hands me a bottle, it had booze in it. I think she is handing it to me to drink it, it is everclear, funny name for alcohol that makes you so unclear..
I get pissed, so I put a cloth in it soak it in alcohol, by dipping it in the bottle, the smell of it disgusting, I hate it. I am sickened by the smell and want only to get it off my hands. I light the rag on fire, and she tells me the girl who sits in front of me wants me to drink it. I have been up for five days, and I would have known that what she is saying is not true, had I not been high, and been thinking clearly not thinking under the influence of things that cloud my mind.
I throw the burning bottle at the woman’s feet, Rei thinks I did this to burn the woman alive, and laughs. I was aiming at the book on the floor, the **** had a copy of a book about alcoholism at her feet, hating the irony I want to burn it.
The girl burned alive, because I can’t look in the mirror.
I watched because I couldn’t figure out how to put it out.
I don’t understand how she can tell me she is like me and just shut off the desire to get high/drunk and I can’t. I constantly am stuck in this cycle of get better/get worse.. I don’t get it, and it is making me hate the people who love me at least when they don’t get this. I don’t want to. I want to get better, but I am just so back and forth all the time and they want me to move forward, but it is alright for me to say honestly, this is just how I am currently feeling and I am trying to process it, and it doesn’t matter for the second how much you want me to get better, this is the first time this should be about me, and if you don’t like what I am saying leave me alone. I don’t want to talk anyway.
I want to be left alone, by them at least. I don’t want to fake it till I make it anymore, it doesn’t work for me. I don’t care if it works for them. I don’t get it. They just don’t get me, they pretend to, they say they care, and then they demand I do things on their timeline or maybe they don’t. I get wanting me to get better, so just leave me alone about it and I will. I can’t do it the way you want me to. I can’t make everything better right away. I am sorry, and if you don’t like it, leave me alone.