Please give me a moment of silence..


M just wont shut up, she’s been going bonkers all effing day. Commenting on this and that, telling me to do random things. Demanding is one word for it.

M, short for Melanie is the name one of the voices inside my head has taken a liking to, so that’s what she goes by. She’s the strongest one. After her is positive, and a male one. Those are quiet and not present 99% of the time.

But back to what I was on about.
It’s strange saying M’s name, or even calling the voice she, but that’s the way she wants it. And I’m slowly giving in to it, after two months of either denying her existence, or calling her “it” or “my head”.
I still have trouble accepting the fact that she’s there, and that she’s not me.

Sure she’s got my voice, just angrier and more annoying. But I can feel the difference between me actually thinking, and her just popping up, non stop.

Quite annoying to say the least. And incredibly difficult to even believe.

I have “filters” as I would like to call them, meaning a block between her and my vocal cords. I can usually choose what to say, very carefully I might add. But sometimes not at all. Or more like quite frequently, like several times a day. Things come out of my mouth, sounding angry, annoyed, hostile even. And I have no idea what I just let come out of my mouth until afterwards.
My “filters” usually come undone completely or half way there. Usually when I’m exhausted, or in a fragile state of mind. Quite a lot of the time.

I may have a week of her being less active, then BOOOM, not getting any peace of mind.

It’s so hard for me to even believe what’s happening, I think I’m still a bit in denial, but trying to work myself through it.

What if I’m just imagining this?
That’s a frequent thought of mine, followed by M’s chuckle.

She’s quite sadistic, doesn’t care about other people’s emotions, wants to do what she wants. The complete opposite of me. Wants me to hurt others, quite cynical(that goes for me too.), manipulative, loves to put others down, blowing their flaws out of porpotion. And she’s got imtense moods wings. She’s like a bipolar with psychopathic tendencies.
She wants to hurt me but she doesn’t, not right away – M.
Oh and she frequently gives me migranes, especially if something someone says sets her off. Either rage, annoyance, even anxiety.
She also gives me these only physical anxiety attacks, my body is shaking and trembling, and she’s screaming about danger. No one can touch me because it’s not safe. Stuff like that.

I’m basically a slave to the voice in my own head.

It’s late, so I’ll try to get some sleep.
Needed to get this out anyways.
Goodnight

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*Sigh* This post may contain triggering content.


Yet again it has been a while since I wrote here, so here I am, trying again.

As usual I don’t know what to write about. Well, I do, but there are not any words that could express it, yet.

I’m feeling so lost, anxious, hopeless, depressed, angry, and even jealous. It’s like a never ending roller coaster. Just a breakdown that’s bound to happen, again and again without fail.  Just like last night..

The day of yesterday was filled with anxiety and depression, perhaps a lot of loneliness too. But in between those moods, I think I was OK, or maybe stable would be a more suitable word for it? 

Everything just broke. Everything was dangerous, frightening, hopeless. Just complete and utter hopelessness. I just broke. Out of nowhere.

I wanted to tell him, but at the same time I couldn’t. I didn’t want to ruin his night, to be the bother that I know I am to everyone.

They’ll never admit it, but its what I feel is true. I’m a complete waste of space, in my opinion that is.  Even if were to tell me otherwise, I still would not believe them. My emotions are too strong, too earnest and sincere, too true.

When something feels true, it must be. Right?

But then there’s another thing conflicting with that; The feeling of something not being real, that everything is an act (From your own point of view e.g what you say and do), but you do not have any control over it whatsoever.

I’m having flashbacks, at least half of them I question, are they real memories, or just something my brain created just because it seemed appropriate? I’m jumping back and forth to the conclusion that everything is real, to why does everything feel fake?

As you might be able to tell, I’m a tad, or more like, incredibly confused. So much has happened these last months, and I don’t even know where to begin. And I’m pretty sure you can guess why.

Indeed, it’s because it doesn’t feel real. The emotion I get when thinking back on it (The parts I remember) is that I’m remembering something like a dream, something that has never happened, something that my own mind has created. Something fake

I have absolutely no clue about what to think, or even do about it. If there’s really anything I can do about it, that is.

I know it is real, that it did inf act happen, but yet it feels fake.

It’s like having one of those dreams that feel so real that you wake up really confused and disorientated, wondering for a few minutes, or maybe days, or months (like I do), if it was real or not. Was it a memory of something that has happened, or was it simply just a really realistic dream?

Do you understand my confusion, even just a little bit?

On a completely different matter, yet somehow related, there’s this feeling I have, which I really strongly dislike, hate even, but at the same time I’m dependent on it. Yup, the feeling that I hate, that makes me feel agitated, is being dependent. One of my strongest personality traits. 

My fear of abandonment, its constant, and extremely intense.

Say or do something wrong? THEY’RE LEAVING. They do or say something different, or in a different tone of voice, even when it comes to wording themselves? THEY’RE LEAVING.  And that ladies and gentlemen, is my head, every day.

I don’t want to depend on anyone, but I don’t know how to not either. 

Sure I’m pretty damn dependent, but when it comes to making decisions? I couldn’t even do that even if my own life was depending on it. I don’t trust my own judgement, because so far, my own head has just been trying to destroy me.

I’m longing for something to numb my emotions and empty my head. Relief. And I’m getting quite desperate.

I think I’m about to break again. Bawl my eyes out, and cry myself to sleep.

But this time, I won’t call him. He’s out enjoying himself, I don’t want to ruin that. I’m not going to be the one to bring him down.

He’ll be home on the 17th this month, I’ll just have to get through the days until that.

But I have to admit, I’m exhausted, I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I just want it all to be over. My self hatred is over whelming, the same with every other emotion I have. I can’t deal with this much longer. I want out, in one way or the other;

If I cannot have one (suicide), then please let me have the other( Self injury).

.. Please ..

??

 

 

 

 

Knowing nothing at all. ( May contain triggering content!)


Am I falling in Love, or fooling myself?

Day four off my meds, apparently I am more uneasy and worried about stuff without it.

I don’t want to fall in Love, or maybe it’s too late?

I don’t want it, don’t need it.
I’m fine on my own, right?

I’m getting attached, and that’s exactly what I did not want. I want to go back to not giving a damn about anything, just doing what I want without a second thought.

How did he change that ? Why did he change that? When ?

I don’t want to need anyone.
He doesn’t even know who I really am.

Or maybe he does ?

There’s so much that I do not know.
Like how he’s able to make me smile and laugh without even trying.
Or is he trying?

He doesn’t even have my complete trust. Or does he?

I know nothing anymore.

Have nothing in particular to say, yet words keep flowing, questions keep rising.

Maybe this is how I really want to write, lost, yet still knowing where I am.

Maybe I’m better when I’m off my meds? Or maybe I’m just slowly getting worse?

If I take my meds, I’ll give my body a shock, and my mind a breakdown. Do I really want that to happen again? I think not.

My blade is always with me, and each time I use it, on my nails or to open things, it feels like it’s getting sharper, yet more taunting.

A promise of destruction, red, wide, open.
I’m sure you know what I’m referring to.
If not, you are one of the lucky ones, and I hope you’ll stay like that.

My arms are scarred, and so is my thigh. There are even scars under my tattoo, but I’m the only one who knows.

Bruising and dragging my nails violently over my own skin, in a desperate hope to slice it open.

Yet A part if me hopes that I’ll fail. That part is getting smaller, fading away.

I want it, but I don’t, yet I still do.

Is it still about relief, or is it just about destruction now? I myself do not know.

Maybe it is me who is fading away, slowly, little by little.(?)

Another mindless ramble, feelings disconnected, lost.

Maybe I write better this way, maybe people understand me more now?

But that’s not something I can say wih certainty, because I do not stand on the outside, looking in. I’m in the middle of it, trying desperately to get a glimpse of the outside. To reconnect myself to the world.

So maybe you’ll see me, looking back at you, as you squint your eyes, trying to get a look at the small glimpse I’m trying to show you of my world.

Maybe does it make more sense to you than it does so me right now.

I just feel like a blur, floating around, not sure about anything.

It occurs to me that I in fact, know nothing at all.