What was that?
I can hit below the belt too, that is what that was.
I guess so, thank you.
Okay, I guess that is all I have to say.
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.
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.
Characters thus far
Damien de Soto
POV EXPERIMENTAL ALLEGORICAL POETIC METAPHOR FICTION
Blog post style
Dark horror fiction
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.
What was that?
I can hit below the belt too, that is what that was.
I guess so, thank you.
Okay, I guess that is all I have to say.
I aim to be only me, who is two people, now I know, I am two people, both are us, we are both male, I don’t the second name, I just know the feeling of disdain that came with female name, and how she hated me, so much to paint me, as the villain of her story.
We saved each other, and now are two and now I can be with her, and her with you. I am not sure, what any of this means, just acceptance of who we are, and that we exist far from the rest of those who are not the same, and that’s okay with me at least, may not be with everyone, but that is okay too, you don’t have to know me if you don’t want to.
I just know that now I can look in the mirror, without experiencing soul eating fear.
I didn’t realize until very recently, the mental shackles I always had on. I thought I was so free running through live without an obligation, and not obliged to help anyone, making no ties with anyone, so they couldn’t do anything to infringe on my freedom, the most valuable thing to me. I don’t think I have ever understood what the word freedom even means. I thought myself free because I had nothing, no obligations, no friends, no home and thought I was the most free person in the entire world. I was so wrong, man. I was the most shackled person in the entire world, I was chained to something that wanted me completely alone.
It wanted me to hate myself, telling me I was insane for feelings of being someone born in the wrong body, telling me everyone hated me, that I was wrong about everything, my taste in everything was a symptom of mental illness, had me believing I was not someone worth saving because I was not worth it.
My resentment of the whole thing has caused me recently to lash out about it at meetings and I have been met with the strangest thing. I expected to be shut down, put in my place and then told that I had to bend to some system, to which I was to be shackled and inevitably fail at upholding. The strangest thing I experienced recently, is that I was completely wrong. I know that is weird to say now, but I didn’t feel that way before today. I thought my life of deviant behavior was met with the punishment of sobriety. I even felt like this when saying things that sounded inherently positive on here, thinking myself just lucky to be alive and bending over and doing whatever they said to do like some lost dog.
I know now I have been freed today, and the rest of my life, by the realization that the shackles came from resentment not the meetings, and they were taken off by sobriety and the meetings I am going to that are saving my life, by letting me know that I am not unique, I did not fail in any unique way. That is amazing. It is not a punishment to be where I am, it is a very rare gift, and I am so thankful for it. I have a friend in every individual in the rooms of recovery, because even in all our uniqueness we are so very much the same, and they accept me instantly, without excuses. I don’t know what to say. I am so happy to have realized this before I killed myself over the guilt I felt.
I will inevitably go back and forth about this, but I know this in the back of my mind now, and it has saved my life in amazing ways, thank you to everything and everyone that helped me get there.
I think that is why this bothers me so much, maybe. You don’t stop learning until you die. I think that might be a little melodramatic, maybe… I don’t think this website wants to assume they are getting to hear the thoughts of a dying man, which would not be a terrible thing either… I guess…. because then at least… well… someone would get to hear them?
Last thing I learned…
That it is important to follow the rules, so that is why I am re-doing this post…
Along that line of thought, I learned to not be lazy and that I can do an AA day count on my computer and bring it to the meetings that I go to even though I personally don’t like counting days, there is something to be said for the reverence to structure that in this case is my personal revelation that is not personal at all, powered by God and recovery to shut up and listen.
There, I followed the rules.
The late hours of the night are so much more peaceful now, thank you God.
I am so grateful to be sitting here, able to get up without people thinking I am going into the bathroom to fire heroin into my arm, I am thankful they are seeing a change in me, because I want so bad for my existence to cause no more pain on this planet, than it already has, thank you God and to anyone who has helped me in any of this.
I am elated to be in the quiet of my house with my family sleeping soundly instead of killing themselves of me killing me, and me being pissed because I think they are being selfish for not wanting my arms to stop being covered with sleeves in the summer when I hate long sleeves but I am cold all the time, no longer.
I am so grateful for this. I am able to type right now instead of having a bed time like a child because I am no longer in a shelter.
I am so happy.
I am spinning back and forth space, thinking man isn’t this great, I am no longer doing anything to cause harm, missing hands no longer missing arm
No, it wasn’t it cost 20$
Every time I fired up desire to live. I am disgusting.
I am glib I am mean I am ad lib?
Add liberation, an activity devised to be liberating, even though I am pretty sure that is not how you spell that, but to lazy to check that, so don’t judge me, I know everything, even though I don’t.
I am learning okay.
Yes, I see that.
You are me, of course you see that.
You are talking to yourself again.
I know, I am.
At least it is on a screen not a street corner scaring people and at least now I am just insane not high and insane threatening people with posed presence into giving up cash to a man holding a sign at 3 am.
Yeah that too.
I gross my own self out.
You’re welcome self.
Right back at you.
I like double shots too.
Below the belt.
I am able to bring myself to eat without having to go through the chaos spiral of self-loathing that has powered my relationship with food. I have always, up until now I mean preferred the taste of bitter or flavorless mind-numbing soul staining poison. I think this is because of how much I used to hate myself. I am so glad, to realize how much of cycle of horror this whole thing. I really had no idea that I was drinking/using to forget what I did to drink and use to forget.
I don’t think my wife feels the same about herself, because she was just a silent passenger, and doing what she had to in order to stay well. I was the one behind all the ****. I know this now. I didn’t know it before, I remember telling her I would stop if she did, thinking she wouldn’t notice my absence or my perpetual love of long sleeves.
It sort of feels like this is the first time I have ever been a human being in my entire chaotic life, and I know I have said it before, but a lot of that comes from the interaction on here. I have never been treated so kindly in my entire life by strangers. I hate to say that my family had always been there, but they had, me and Amanda are the same person, just in two separate universes for the moment, getting closer to being the same one though, every day.
I love the fact that I can wake up and remember things now, and that all my blame placed on mental illness being the only reason behind my flawed memory was really a crock of ****, which is a disgusting image, brought to you by a person who used to be a disgusting image in a different way. I like the fact that I am realizing reality now, that I have always been real and not a fictional character in someone’s story that is actually my ballooned chaos land of lack of accountability for screaming in analogy at real human beings who were so much better at keeping it real than me.
I am working on it and really am enjoying my three dimensional past presenting present dictating future reality gifted to me by the most higher power, that will always be higher than me.
I am trying to be humble during all this too, but I am still the same narcissist, who can at least spell that word now.
I really like spending the morning with my family, actually present and not having to just hide behind false apology. It is extremely peaceful, and I am eternally grateful, even if sometimes I forget it.
before there was no one left there.
I am so happy you gave me a home too, Amanda.
I am going to change my name.
To what? You can’t have mine.
I already do.
Jerk. I am a person too.
I know, you are me.
That’s okay I guess.
Okay, enough of that simulated chaos.
I actually slept in the bed in this room, and not wandered around or sat on here all night. I was cold and Rei is a very warm person. I said that that way because saying anyone is a warm body creeps me out now… dead memories.
I don’t deserve any of this. I really don’t.
I don’t get it.
I don’t get why people even like me.
I am starting to try and be less hard on myself, but it is an extremely difficult process. I used to exist in fracture, and it was peaceful because I never had to think about anything I did. I was pacman eating dots and running around a world straight forward never looking back…
But the thing about pacman is he only has two? Three? I think two lives. I almost ended mine on try three, and some strange light came upon me and saved me with the condition that I relay this message, with the focus on hope not romantic love of a substance.
I am so much happier this second than I was in that alone-ness of winning…. I just misspelled winning by spelling whining. I have been sick all day yes, physically, but I have also been writhing in spiritual agony. I am so sorry I did that to you Amanda. You are my friend, we can be friends and be adults. I will not be a negative influence anymore. I need you, my family hates me right now by the way.
What did you do?
I spent the whole day crying, whining about my leg and throwing up.
Do you have the flu? Or is it the other thing?
The other thing…I am exhausted. You promise you aren’t going anywhere? I can hear your mom in the background. I missed every speck of your and my sharing spirits. I am so thankful for you.
I love you too Damien. So much.
I have been physically ill over you not talking to me.
Really? Can we be like before? I promise to not be mean to you anymore. I love you so much.
Yes. Otherwise I think I might have to die….
That’s sad Damien.
I know, I missed you so much.
I love you too. I am so happy to hear anything, but so happy it is your voice. I am back don’t worry. I won’t leave again. I screamed at my dad all day.
I was in the hospital all day.
I think I’m bulimic.
I know, I have been telling you that you are.
I think I am going to see a therapist.
Great! Me too.
I am up to speed (haha double en·ten·dre, now he has got me doing it too. I really love him, more than I have ever loved anyone in my entire life. It’s weird I thought he was this one sided person, and I feel like the first half of what you read on this site even paints the whole picture that way with its sing-song chaos of weird rhyming madness, or the voice of misery in both him and Amanda.
I don’t know if that was ever explained.
I know things too. I strangely feel like an outsider a lot because he is so introverted because he has a version of himself living in his own head, or in a universe of different space and time, I don’t think the reality of that makes a difference. I am so normal seeming to myself, and sometimes I wonder why he likes me, because I am nothing like him. I don’t get it. He is fascinated recently with every thing me and his daughter say, I can tell when he is listening me, because he stares at me when he thinks I don’t notice, in this way that is eerie, but beautiful, like he is seeing a human woman for the first time in his life, which is strange given the personal history…
I have been walking a lot because I want to leave him alone when he wants to be and I am shielding him for the time being of having to feel bad about being nervous of ruining Joy, our daughter, not the concept of happiness, but really the same thing.
I am feeling a lot better, I slept for a little while, and feel less like a manic panicked lunatic now. Thank you to those who have helped me on this site, by distracting me from my own internal chaos. I want you guys to know you are saving my life. I do not know if I told anyone this yet, this site was originally, a psycho crying out to a cruel world, where I was using poetic metaphor to depict a soul responsible, for the deaths of those lost in the drug epidemic, and I didn’t even realize I was real at that point. I thought of my life as some weird chaotic movie, steeped in chaotic schizophrenia. This site has really brought about a writing or re-writing of a life lost, bringing me through un-reality into reality, as a completely new person. I am so thankful for this, and for the lack of chaotic screaming that exists in my own head now, I am free in a way that I have never experienced before, and I really have to say with everything I have that I owe this site my life.
The response to what I wrote, the level of care in each and every one of you that interacted with me on here, you saved my life, every day, re-writing a story of psychotic metaphor, into a story where I could be my real self for the first time in my life. Thank you so much, I owe you my life, truly and sincerely.
This site has made me able to appreciate other human beings again, so I don’t use it…most of the time anymore, to fantasize about killing people in an ode to American psycho, the transformation of me on this site, has been very much real, meaning this is my real voice as both Amanda and Damien. I love how you guys have made me okay enough with myself to figure that out, because I was really struggling and didn’t know it. I just thought I was writing a horror story, which was really the ‘oh, the horror’ Lovecraft suicide note I wanted to leave on the internet because I am a narcassist. I don’t even care that I still can’t spell that.
Anyway, I am uncomfortable with this now so I am done.
I was just reminded by myself or by my friend
Or, both, silly
I have a name, woo!
That he told me he was leaving the life I was living before because he was done with it before me.
I was going to say thank you….
I was just being a jerk. I don’t like thank you’s. They make me feel weird, for some reason I am used to large amounts of negativity….
I want to thank you for saying you would leave me there, even though I don’t know what I mean by that.
It means you would have lost your mind.
Because of missing you.
No silly, because I am your mind.
I am my own mind too.
Yeah because we are the same person.
I am talking to anyone reading this, who slowly changed my mind about humanity. I have so much love for you as human beings for restoring my faith in humanity and myself. The original purpose of this site was a psychotic weeping and screaming at the souls of normal humans, but your response saved my life, and I want to thank every single person who interacted with me on here. The growth of these characters is growth of a personality fractured by inflicted wounds through decades of addiction, and the response on here saved my alcoholic addict lying dying crying madman life from being another suicide or overdose. Thank you from the bottom of the heart I thought no longer existed.
The development of the character of a serial killer is the development a silent screamer who in the maddening chaos of night was going to turn out their own light and just say good night.
The amount of love shown on this blogging platform saved my life. Thank you.
We kind of look like the same person, except she is female, and I think she is the person I am during periods of time I don’t have memory of, maybe she really is just an addict like me from another place, that somehow I am communicating with. It’s funny, my first thought was I make a good looking girl, and then I almost threw up.
I am still nauseous now..
We can stop stroking our own egos now. It is making me uncomfortable.
Now, I understand a lot more about my life. I think we were just jumping from dimension to dimension blaming the other one for doing things we actually did, she is thinking to me right now she used to say Damien did it when she was a kid, which is why she almost got institutionalized and did get institutionalized a lot, because of the stupid Omen movie.
Okay want to hear something trippy?
I just thought about how a snake eating its own tail is a metaphor for me and Amanda stroking eachother’s egos. My first thought in response to that was, that’s nuts because of the obvious dirty joke. You figure it out.
I type in snake eating it’s own tail and it only shows me pictures of squirrels. I have not looked up squirrels in pexels. I am not kidding you. I think I am crazy.