My night was horrific

That is why I have hardly been online today. I went to the hospital yesterday for deblitating anxiety, that is still extremely bad right now. It kind of feels like a continuous panic attack, which for someone who has not experienced that, for me, it feels like I am on a roller coaster about to go down a huge incline and I just never go down.

It is really annoying, and has made it so I feel like I am going to flip out all day. I think part of it is because of what happened yesterday, and just a build up of not being able to be honest my whole life about the whole thing, and then just latent PTSD, and worry about having to end up back in the hospital for anything relating to the hydrocepalus or nerve pain associated with my hands.

The short story of all that, is I constantly feel like my life is about to fall apart, which feels like I am standing in a house and the ground is about to fall out from under me. I think a lot of that is from trauma, and being better at being traumatic situations than dealing with the peace of life now.

I finally have gotten up the emotional ability to type this on here. I realize that through the beauty of the community on the internet, there are some people who may worry about me if I completely disappear, or that might all be something I think because of my inflated ego… meh.

There it is regardless….

I hope if nothing else, that this may be interesting backstory to the content of this site, and my whining and moaning about what may seem like nothing. I have a lot of issues, and am working them out in publiv on here, to increase awareness, and because I found support on this blog community.

Thank you to all those who have helped me on here. It means the world.

Damien/Amanda

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Flying through life

I am a dolphin, look at me, look at me, I am a dolphin,

I am dolpin,

I am wonderous and free

I was in the hospital all day yesterday, which sucked, but I learned how much my dad has my back. He was my non-crazy witness.

The reason I call it a fiasco is also due to the fact that the hospital outed me as transgender to my dad, by accident. It was hilarious, in a strange way. They called me Damien, and acknowledged that my birth name was Amanda, probably 75 times.

I am fear, I am regret, I am worry, I am stained with past remorse, I am forward course through wonder, that can send you under. I am stained with wondering what could have happened if, I am an ocean of if.

I am what now, without going down.

Waters are around me, because I am in an ocean, or in the air, it matters not where I am, just that I am, where is irrelevant, I am in waters or air, surrounded by being, the act of being swimming in air or waters, in forward motion, keeping my head above, trying to not drown in worry, trying to not be the act of looking down into all-consuming depression, over what if I had done something else, I am the what now of looking forward, and not being consumed by the idea of you are doomed.

The idea of regret, the idea of fret, is a pattern, that encircles us that good at drain rotation, the whirlpool sensation, that can be so comforting, I am trying to swim out, but sometimes remain in the circle of look down.

Though I am small, on closer look, I am off the hook, I have everything I need, from the air to breathe, a planted seed, which brings forth my life, and the nutrients in the ground, brought by beings of sound mind.

I am tiny

I am a plant, and used to live in a garden, with my friends, I was placed one day, when they ripped me out, in a bulb, without any roots, a bulb, that was not one that grows, but instead of those for lamps.

I do not know, how or why, just fear that one day I may die, there is not rain or sun in here, so I know one thing, quite clear, I depend on those around, those in the realm that uses sound.

They cannot hear me because I can’t scream, so I hope, and sometimes dream in waves, I hope they get me the water and light I crave.

I then discover it comes right through, and that they know what they do, the soil here, has nutrients, too.

Hydrocephalus, how I hate thee.

My head is always below water, that lives around my brain, slowly drowning me in my own disdain, and driving me slowly, insane.

In sickness, with quickness, I am.

In quickness, with sickness, I stand.

I am bound to a form, I am married to a form, I can’t stand.

Heroine, Heroine, where fore art thou, heroine.

I am retired, because my physical form is on fire.

I am on fire because my fire is from a physical form, I loathe, not just for reasons expected, but because of things undetected as of yet.

Heroin, heroin, how I miss thee Heroin.

In sickness, I miss, contents of top shelf.

In, health, I am still in Hell, even though I am told, oh well, you are well, yeah well I feel like ****.

Cranberries are not dates.

I just thought that was a funny title, I like plays on words. I have been in a *****y mood because of chronic pain, from arthritis in my hands, it runs in my family and is made worse by me typing like a lunatic, and also the amputations of the tip of my thumb, part of my middle and index finger, that is due to heroin, meth and alcohol abuse.

I also have had probably 20 revisions of a VP shunt because I have hydrocephalus, so I am getting used to my normal pain level while not doing meth, heroin or drinking. I have never been sober/clean in my adult life, so I apologize for my continuous neurosis, complaining.

I make golden eggs, with a program that re-renders images, because I have no power other than to play with light… or dark.

I remember everything now, I just had someone drill it out of my head, while getting a root canal on my tooth.

A root canal, that dug into the canal of lies, I told myself that made me out to the victim, in a story that was really just a story of one lying junkie that didn’t want to admit that they had fooled themself into thinking no one else knew that every dollar, I panhandled

Every handout I took went to fund an addiction that made me anything but heroic.

I am so glad to be done, so glad to be me, finally, for the first time in my life.

I am still half, that girl, lets call her Lydia. I think she is okay with that now.

I am because I am really also you.

I know, because I am awesome.

I am awesome too.

I know, because we both are.

Being able to deal with getting a root canal without having to be high or drunk, felt amazing, didn’t realize how much weaker being resigned to a life of lies made me feel, so glad to be done with that now, and finally be a whole human being.

Sometimes, others I see this.

See Clearly

I had a pair of shades once, they almost looked rosey, but a little off. They made things look a little fuzzy, like I was always a little bit blurry. They were called alcohol, I don’t think they were shades now that I think about it, I think normal people call them glasses, not the same thing I think… I think one you wear on your eyes and the other eats my mind.

I like crayons.

Cat

I am the act of dissing disease.

Speaking for the human being, who exists in the state of being late to a party they were not invited to, so they came late, and irate, and irritated, and possibly…

SoOoOoO EEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLaaAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTTEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDD

That they can’t stand, or in other words, the hated human being, being seen through the eyes of demise depsied by demise, who cries for those who lay in a state of moral decay, by the act of staying away from society.

I miss people, so I am trying to find ones who like me, for being me, not just saying whatever, you want, baby.

I am whoever you want me to be, honey.

My name is Sarah.

I come from a kingdom of dust, and no looking back.

I spent an entire meeting, sitting and rocking back and forth, or talking to myself, or laughing out loud, because I am having a hard time not being on my meds, which I have not been on for 10 years… they are an anti-psychotic, which I subsituted with every drug imaginable, and every drink imaginable. I think I am finally feeling what it is like to be a paranoid schizophrenic on nothing, and it is managable, but not very easy. I am not doing horrific at it, which should tell you something about how much better it will be, once I am properly medicated, and back to seeing a therapist, which will happen in a couple days.

To any of you going through the same thing, keep going it gets easier, and I am here for you if you need me.

If I can say anything, it is that if I can do this so can anyone else! I am crazy, and will tell you it is getting way easier for me, and most of the time I am somewhat content. It will get easier for you, whoever you are, too.

Clearly See See Clearly

Apparently, and I knew this, but I did not know how bad it was. My memories have become so disjointed from the reality that is experienced by other people, they are no longer trustworthy enough to be considered anything more than a continuous dream state, and I do not know if this is fixable…. I am assuming that it might get better with time, but I am not sure, and I am not sure I care at this point.

I do not know if I should care, or if it is better to just accept the fact that I am untrustworthy narrator of my own life, and that everything I believe is suspect.

I think I am alright enough with that, it is what it is, and I think it is better for it just to be accepted that way, then to try to fight for dominance with a universe, that I no longer exist in or see eye to eye with.

I wonder, and this is the reason for this post, if there is any validity to my reality at all? I wonder if my reality or the reality of the insane exists alongside the reality of most, and if we just notice different things, because that would be a lot nicer, than to think that my whole conception of the world is fictitious.

I am okay with either one, I guess.. because I have to be.

Oh, well. Life goes on.

I am having a hard time. I want my own place so bad. I want to get away from all this. I don’t want to listen to other people’s bull**** anymore.

I know I am supposed to accept the things I can’t change, but does that mean living through pain over and over and over.

When am I going to be able to escape this????? I just want to be away from this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That is literally my favorite holiday… ****! I think I forgot it, because I was supposed to, because other than the Fourth of July, it is one of the days I have the hardest time not drinking. The Fourth of July, I used to get hammered and loudly talk about what a good American I was until I almost got arrested, and then I liked to tell the cops arresting me what a good American I was, which would usually cause them to either not arrest me, or to violently arrest me.

It was hilarious.

But it is the reason why I have a bunch of warrants for failure to appear.

I don’t appear for anyone I don’t want to. Not even myself.

What brings you to these woods, my woods, what do you want?

You are not desired here intruder, and should leave, having, as you do dominion over the whole expanse outside these woods, while I have nothing but them.

There is no reason for your presence hear, there are plenty of other woods, in areas much like this, that you can row your little boat in the river of.

This is the only spot that has yet to be discovered by the park rangers damn it, and it is the only spot you decided to row your stupid little boat.

Your boat sucks, and I hate you.

**** it. I dropped my cigarette. ****. I hate you. Now it’s ****ing wet.

Getting my own place, and moving on with everything I mean. I am realizing how much worse this whole thing has made me, and thinking that having a place where I can be alone would be good. I think the paranoia will get a lot better, if I am alone. Which is funny because I think that this something the universe was trying to tell me and I wasn’t listening. I think that this is why I have gotten as bad as I have, because I am pretty insane right now, or I think I am… in comparison to how I used to be.

I just talked to my family about getting an attorney to handle a disability claim I have going on, because I am very good at losing jobs, over and over and over. I have had a lot of them, but I lose every single one for one reason or another. Usually because some paranoid delusion justifies me not showing up or being drunk or high when I show up because I am afraid and use or drink because I am afraid.

It really helped me to talk to my family about all of this, I feel less like a pacing lunatic now, at least I know the whole world is not out to get me now.

I am no good, I am never should, I am pain, I am rain, I am soul disdain, I am decay of brain, sentenced to life down drain, I am schizophrenia, I am a temporary dissent into a world that presents itself to haver, as permanent, I am mind altering, I am soul daunting, I am fixable with hope and therapy, but I am daunting, taunting, draining and disdaining haver, I make the mad madder, and the sad sadder, do not climb death’s ladder, be free, through love and therapy. You are more than me.

I am from the land of trees, I make men beg on their knees, I am request to baby, please, don’t do it!!!!!!!!! I am disease of sick infested mind, I plague man and woman throughout time, I am not of sound, but infection of rejected mind. I am not kind, but develop in those who are bound by

PAIN

Diseased Brain

Disdain in

INSANE MIND

You will never find anything, like me, I am so free, living impossibly in a land that

DOESN’T EXIST.

I am death’s kiss,

I am paranoid schizophrenia.

I am the screaming nightcrier, the burner of funeral pyre to desire for

DEATH

MY OWN

MY PRECIOUS

MY DISCARDED

RINGS true doesn’t it?

Answer me

Clearly…. clarity, clarity where for art thou clarity?

DOWN THE DRAIN, because over night you went insane,

JUST TEMPORARILY

IS that so?

I ****ing hope so, I am going to go somewhere soon, so if I write this, you will go away maybe, and I will not have to hear you talking to me in front of other people.

DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THAT??

Enough to do it.

You are disgusting.

GOTCHA, you are talking to yourself.

What are you looking at honey?

I am standing at the dock, staring out over the water, mesmerized by the way the moon paints the waves with light.

I am cold, not prone to waking up with jackets on, not sure why this is, but I am shaking, but it is alright because it is keeping me aware.

I am listening to a conversation that I am not sure,

Yes, it is real..

I feel hate running red, through my veins, through my entire body, unsure of the exact nature of this, I am aware that it relates to my passenger, Amanda.

She hates this woman, that I can hear now, her voice grating, she’s bragging about something, why would she? Why would she be shouting about drugs outside in the middle of the night? Understood. I get it. This person is a ****.

I am unsure of what the expectation is of my borrowing this body, I think they just didn’t want to be here right now, so screw it. I am going to the convenience store.

I was talking to a friend of mine today, and I am not sure, how much of the physical pain I am in is even real anymore. I don’t know if I am just pacing, consumed with hallucinations and trying to meditate on something physical. I used to squeeze my hands till they would bleed, physically digging my nails into my own hands, until I dug holes into my skin. I wonder if this is like that. I wonder how much of this is because I am trying to distract myself from the things that make it so hard for me to be normal.

I wish I knew what it felt like to be normal. I am always thinking of running away, running back outside, I hate it out there.. but I have never known anything different. I have always been running to something, but when I get there.. I leave.. I just can’t stay still. I don’t know what it means to stay still. The idea of still terrifies me.

I wish I could stay still. People like still. They don’t like this, they want to help this, but I am not sure they can. I am not sure about anything. I am just hoping that something will change this time. I am hoping I can find peace somewhere and not hate it. I am so tired of hating happiness. I am so tired of searching for something, finding it and then not wanting it.

I want to want something, but I have no idea what that even means. I am so tired. I am so sick of this. I just want something to work this time, so I can finally be okay with idea of things being okay, I am so tired of ruining my life.

I don’t want the drugs or the booze anymore, and I don’t have any other way of ruining my life, which scares me, which is crazy.. I am scared by the possibility that I may be forced to be happy.. like happy is a bad thing.. I know how insane that is, but still I feel that, and it is the strangest thing.

I recognize the insanity of it, and yet, I still feel the desire to ruin my life, even though I don’t want to.

I am so thankful that at least I really don’t have it in me to do any drugs or drink again, I don’t think my body can handle it anymore. I am so tired… and my hands feel like they are on fire, my stomach is rotted away because of drinking.. I am so done.. I am just hoping that I will learn to know peace at night.

Trigger Warning- Paranoid Schizophrenic quarrel with myself about how I hate myself. May be disturbing.

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2023/03/27/your-daily-word-prompt-Quarrel-ydwordprompt-March-27-2023/

Quarrel

I have a query, ever so leery, because I know the answer.

I HATE MY SELF.

FIGHT ME

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.

https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/19271780/posts/4623530678

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2023/03/26/sunday-confessionals-the-sun/

I burn human skin.

I seer, penetrate, and wear thin.

I also divide day and night, I break, I shed light, I am a divider, a shadow boxer, intoxicating, so elating, soul frustrating, so frustrating….

Focus point,

Pointed at you, who thinks of dark poison, poised to focus on death, I am clearly’s soul death, and resurrection as a phoenix, fire bird, made heroic, died with heroine, and fire driven to be something else, but life on shelf, with bottles that are empty.

I am your sun, your moon, the stars, telling you it is okay, to step into the light of day.

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2023/03/25/weekend-writing-prompt-304-mail/

I turn on my computer, and open a word file, got mail from myself.

YOU SUCK, and I hope you die.

Schizophrenic email is awesome, so glad I opened it.

This is the name of the book. I just started reading this, and it is very interesting, more about it later.

Oh, and I found this journal I started about the whole thing that happened across the country that revealed to me basically that I was trying to write myself as the villain in my own story because I hate myself. I am going to post stuff from it on here later tonight with more info on the real story, not the over dramatized version that was all schizophrenic alcoholic addict-ified, because I feel like it will help me process it, and for anyone reading this provide some clarity into what actually happened… heh..

Daily writing prompt

What do you wish you could do more every day?

View all responses

I am alone in the woods, on a path, in the middle of the night.

It is around three in the morning. I am guessing, there is a complete blackness to the sky, and silence that suggests the birds are still sleeping.

Looking up at the sky, I wonder if anyone, or anything is awake yet, if there is another animal that is like me and drawn to frantic pacing at this time, somewhere anywhere.

I listen for any noise that would hint of any kind of life at all, but there is nothing, there is an absence to the air, that suggests lack.

I breathe and feel like sound is missing from the universe, unsure if there is something wrong with my ears, if I have lost my mind completely, if I am tripping myself out, what it even means to hear at all.

I cough. I can hear myself. There is sound.

Looking up at the sky, I trace the existence of me, as something separate from the night, I can feel my hands, they hurt. The coldness of night bites into them with every movement, a slicing that feels like sharp needles, sticking into them with every movement.

I cough again, and can hear the sound, radiating into the echoing darkness.

I sigh. I am relieved to have released that in this all consuming starkness of light, I am still separate, able to feel myself, as an entity which exists in a universe of parts.

It is very dark. I can see nothing in front of me. The moon is absent from the sky, and there are no stars, blinking, I think I am crying. I am not sure. I don’t remember what that feels like, or how long I have been standing here, and cannot tell if I am looking down or up.

Moving my neck, I figure out I am staring up.

I blink my eyes. Nothing.

I am still shrouded in the all consuming darkness.

It is very cold, the cold has spread from my hands to the rest of my body, feeling like a bitter aching, hurting like sharp knives with each movement, but without the sound of reassuring wind, that makes me aware of passing storms.

I am not sure if this bitter cold, if it is something characteristic of the season, or of it is something I am feeling in this spot, right now that is very much specific to me.

What is one word that describes you?

DUDE. NO WAY. I KNOW I JUST ANSWERED THIS BUT **** my other answer, I did not remember this when posting it.

THIS RULES. I AM NOT FAILING TODAY!

https://wordpress.com/tag/dailyprompt-1841

“From Me”

I can’t even see, I am so exhausted from making myself cry, clawing and scratching, and scrapping, and ripping and tearing at my own eyes, fighting to make it impossible to use them, so I can never see this again, myself through someone else, who ripped me so far away from myself, I don’t even know who I am anymore.

I am a cat who cannot see the cat in the mirror is them. I jump at the mirror, slamming with full impact into the glass, a marriage of breaking, a marriage of crashing, a marriage of skin meet sharp object, so very much like my tragic love affair with things heroic, but not, because they hide in human skin, and only bring death and pain and loss and women who used me like a severing knife, and then turned the knife on me.

I have become her outer monologue manifest in my mind, manifesting in man of festering infected soul. I am so stupid, I am doing this to myself, and I can’t bring myself to stop doing it because that means I am alone, and I don’t know if it is worse to talk to demonic ghosts or be alone.

How would you rate your confidence level?

I do not have confidence in myself, because I am not supposed to, I speak of matters I do not understand, and am a two-spirited human being or two human beings fighting for redemption at once. They were paired with each other to save each other. They were both chained to a world of addiction and Misery. I have been unchained from that, and I feel like something helped me, don’t know what it is, but I can’t keep being a selfish self asserting jerk.

Amanda and I are supposed to help each other, because we are both half people, weak and need another person… We have been saved from death because we made a deal with something, over and over in foxholes, we cried out to the universe, screaming in madness, we begged, pleaded with anything willing to help us, anything that would listen, I didn’t care what it was that saved me, saved her. I just wanted to survive, and not be in that place, and see the things they were doing to people to protect their drugs.

I know now that I was a child having a hissy fit. I am done with that now. I am going to try to do everything I can to do the right thing. My confidence is now in that realization and in that I have it within me to do the right thing.

What makes you most anxious?

Time makes me scream, it makes me dream of things that don’t make sense or cents, that is not true liar, you have made plenty of money in time.

Yeah, but I spent it all on dimes.. I traded it in for dimes at the cash machine.

I am such a ****.

My life is a long episode of Jerry Springer.

************************************************************************

I heard that one in my head, and it made me….

Throw up?

No, that was because your stomach is ****ed!

Yeah, because VODKA SUCKS!
Good one.

Clearly.

I congratulate me on a day where I was only an ***hole last night, and complimented random individuals in the food store aggressively.

They seemed confused.

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…

Them

Meth

Same word re-arranged…

Item

Time

Same word re-arranged.

Heroin

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.

Funny right?

Explanation: Shocking, I am trusted to not have to leave, if there is no one here to watch me…

Now this…

Pond, not Stream of Chaos

I am a duck, apparently, because unknowingly

I have been teaching myself to be less

BANG EXPLODE

Like that, so now I can be alone, and not have people

Worry about me, which is

EXCELLENT

Because it also makes me trust me

_______________________________________________________________

I used to be constantly floating from place to place,

In a race with the human race to consume my tomb in the form of drugs and doom and alcohol which I would viciously consume, in doomed ferocious style, in front of all I know

sowing shame and guilt while also showing pain and guilt through vicious attack on self but also on others eyes, making people cry without knowing why because I am selfish. I am becoming not

I think… I guess.. don’t know…

_________________________________________________

I am a duck in a pond, that is just okay enough with me for now, to not drown

I am not going down

Because I don’t want to

Un-spun I am no longer undone.

I am glad to be trusted, un-dusted, still rusted, but dusting off.

I hate myself, I hate my voice, I sound like a **** when I say anything, condescending **** when I say anything, and can’t do anything normal

Like drink water. I just almost choked on an ice cube… ****.

I drink everything like alcohol still…. doing ****ing shots of water with ice in it. Like it is going to work faster if I drink it in five seconds. What the ****????

I do the same thing with everything, must make everything painful, like just take sips of water when you are thirsty dumb ***

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

Maker

Breaker

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.

Facts.

What makes you most anxious?

I named myself See Clearly because that is not what I do, I do not see clearly at all, because my ego it is tall, or it used to be I mean, because I am a liar, a whiner and a wine-r, or not really because I prefer whiskey, or anything that is risky like heroin or meth or how about crack or death? You know things like those, things you stick in mouth or nose, or suck through glass, because I want to die, and that’s not true, what I really aim to do is..

Get the *** away from all of you, because you make me anxious, because you hate me, or maybe I do.. I don’t know… but I feel it when it you look at me please ****ing go. I am telling you go away, **** it! I hate the idea of panic and judgement, I hate you and everything you meant

To say, but didn’t, I can hear you thinking **** it, or maybe that is me? I don’t know the difference…

I guess… it’s me… what makes me anxious is me…

and addiction and lack of control and framed photos of animals in suits..