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: mental changes
Trigger Warning- Paranoid Schizophrenic quarrel with myself about how I hate myself. May be disturbing.
I have a query, ever so leery, because I know the answer.
I HATE MY SELF.
I speak to me, all the time, a mind in perpetual quarrel with itself, a life on shelf fighting it’s
Contract shunned by me, I am glee, glee,
Quarrel with me, self.
I am clearly on shelf.
Isn’t that shell fish shelled fish
Did you just call me a fish???
Yes, and selfish
I fight with voices in my head, that can be red with passive aggression or read on here.
I know you don’t know me, but I am lonely, and I want to know you, whoever you are, whoever is lonely too.
I am very sad, and want someone just like you. I don’t know who you are, I don’t know why, but you are like me, and we cry with similar cut eyes.
I hope you are okay, I am not. My head is hurting, my hands are hot.
My heart is broken, I am alone, and I hope you hang on, person who is also by unanswered phone. Please don’t be sad, I am sad too.
I don’r want for you anything I feel too.
Can we just pretend for today? Just pretend that we already know each other so you will be okay?
I am lonely too please don’t give up.
I want to meet you. Don’t die before we meet up.
Depends on what you are asking? In me?
I am finding, desperate depressed searcher for keys that I am, that confidence in me means very little, because it is so fragile, speaking of the fragility not in my self, but the idea of placing importance separately on me as an individual.
Searching for something always seems to….I know Justin, you hate seems… but you are not here anymore…
Searching for something always makes it more difficult for me to find it, so I have taken or begun to take the emphasis off me, counting on that things will come as they come. I am a searcher for house keys, who realizes they must be there somewhere, and decided last night to try and remind myself to not over-focus on the quest of dominating assertion that was my desperation to find anything.
ANSWER THE QUESTION
Thank you for the reminder, self.
My confidence, like this post, is fluid. It has no level or ranking because it is changing over and over minute, as I fail or succeed.
My confidence in a higher power, is intensely increasing.
This is bringing me peace.
I just got back from hanging out with my dad, and it is cool how different things are now that I am trying to makes things right, I talked to him about all the chaos that I caused, continue to cause because I am prone to delusions, and how sorry I am. I noticed that saying things like this keep me from drinking, keep me coming back to a place, where I can stop beating myself up and are making it possible for me to walk out of the woods where I kept taking the wrong path on purpose and falling in random holes because I thought I was going to find secret gold in rocks I found on the ground.
I think the metaphor for drug addiction and eating rocks and drinking poison instead of doing the simple thing of eating food and drinking water is hilarious. I can’t believe how much my thinking has changed. It’s funny I was convinced everyone is out to get me when this is more true…
Same word re-arranged…
Same word re-arranged.
Hero in pushed together it forms a drug
Divided it references a hero in me
Heroine with an everlasting e it makes me a hero for saving my own life.
In my head since finding out about the origin of the bookshelf is this, I no longer think I deserve to feel sorry for myself, I don’t want to paint myself out to be some sort of victim any more. I am not here because I deserve any of this, I realize that now. I was spared, by luck, hand of universe, whatever it was doesn’t matter… I only have now, and what I do with the hand I was dealt and I think it would only be fair, to play it the best way I can in the way that makes it worth it for those around me that I was spared for whatever reason I was spared, it is not in my power to figure that one out, so I think that I am going to stop trying to, figure out why I lived anyway. I lived that is it…. and being pathetic about it is not helping anyone who was there for me through all of this.
I am learning to take better care of myself because whether I like it or not there are people around me who care, and they don’t seem to want to stop caring, so even if I don’t care about me, they do so I have to so they don’t get hurt, so I am trying to remember to eat, to not cry all the time, and make people happy instead of just being a retching ball of agony.
What does that even mean? Last before what? Last thing before sleep? The last thing before bed yesterday? Last thing I allowed myself to be taught? The last thing I learned in general?
Is this up to interpretation? Is that why it is phrase this way?
What the heck? I don’t get it.
You really think you are better than everyone else don’t you?
Who said that?
You. Just now.
No, I didn’t. And no I don’t.
Yes, you did, it is up there said, by me. That is how…
That is not how that comes across, I was asking for clarity.
You were pointing out a flaw with the question to avoid answering because you are used to being held somewhere under a light and asked questions about drunk or high behavior by police.
This is not a cop asking me this.
Then what is the last thing you learned?
Before bed? I’ll take it that way, which is the only way I can take it.
I learned I am lucky and grateful that I have been gifted the ability and chance to do anything at all because I have lived a life of selfishness and deserve none of this, only being granted it by the grace of God or my higher power.
Thank you, good answer.
That was easy, and rewarding.
Yeah, I know.
Nice mental pat on the back.
I know that too.
Yes, I just simply don’t care.
Do you know how that sounds?
Yes, I just simply don’t care.
I don’t know. I just don’t.
Can you try?
No? It doesn’t work. Don’t you think I would have tried by now, I am doing the best I can here.
I think of insane **** and writing it down into a story helps me, because I am a fictionalized character of a girl with a mental illness who rights of an invisible man who does the horrible fly by the seat of your pants **** of nightmares so she can, sorry they? They right, baby?
He rights this down so I don’t have nightmares and hate myself. I have no control over my thoughts sometimes. I can control behavior, but racing thoughts…. haven’t figured out that one yet, and that is what this is. I don’t focus on editing when I type this so I can document to myself and my viewer mental change through recovery.