All I want for Christmas

Sometimes the things we want most in life just seem to allude us. Sometimes its something as simple as a new toy or a car or clothes... other times its love. Sometimes its simply someone to notice you. As the holidays close in, I find myself surrounded by the cold of winter. People are so quick to look past the things they see all around them. They don't want to see the poverty or the hunger or the violence or the war. And for those closer to home, they don't want to see their friends in pain because it takes more effort than they want to put forth. Or perhaps they are simply too busy with what is going on in their owns lives. On the one hand we need others to help us through the tough times... but then, if we have help from others will we ever truly learn to do it for ourselves?

I am constantly struggling with this question. Is it better for me to let others in and let them help me through my tough time? Or is it better for me to close myself off and deal with my problems on my own? I'm not a high maintanence person generally, but when I'm really down and when I really need help, it can be emotionally taxing. I suppose if I were a decent friend I wouldn't let things escalate to this point. But then, that would require me to acknowledge the problem before its a problem.

I am bad at asking for help. Mostly because I minimize my problems and refuse to acknowledge they are there. I don't know how not to be all right, even though, most of the time I am very far from all right.

I have been seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist. My therapist has moved from the point of wanting to help me to the point of only having pity for me. She can't understand how I make it through my days feeling as bad as I feel. She says that most people can't function when they are experiencing my kind of depression. And yet, somehow I manage to go to work every day and lie to all the people around me.

I don't know how to tell them I'm falling apart and I don't know how to ask for help. In fact, my therapist was so worried about me that she called my psychiatrist to tell on me and make sure she knew how bad off I was.

So I went to see my psychiatrist and she said.. ok what the fuck is up? I said, it's like it always is, not great, not horrible. I can't make the thoughts in my head go away. Sometimes I want to act on them... other times they just keep me down. She asked me if I had any intent to act on them... and I would say that the answer is mostly no. But then I think about all the things in my life, and don't get me wrong, my life isn't bad... but sometimes the things I really want are so far away from me, I'm not sure I'll ever crawl out of this hole.

I'm not sure anyone will really miss me. I'm not sure anyone will really even notice I'm gone. I'm really good a lying to almost everyone. In fact, right now in my life, I think there is really only one person left I can't lie to. And there used to be 2. Unfortunately, people leave because they need to take care of themselves...

And I'm back to where I was. Is it better to reach out and ask for help, knowing it might not be there? Or is it better for me to just cage the beast inside and keep pushing forward, knowing that it is eating away at me slowly every day?

demon possession

So while I think Paranormal Activity wasn't the best film to watch, it did manage to be effective and screw with my head. I'm pretty sure if my life were a horror movie, I'd be a prime candidate for demonic possession. So I've been rather freaked out lately.

And I go this Tuesday to get my head shrunk and see what the dr thinks is wrong with me. I have therapy again on Wednesday and then my regular doc in early November. My bones hurt and my hair is falling out. My skin is dry and I'm tired all the time but not sleeping for shit.

I also think that I'm afraid to be happy and afraid to be well. I've lost so many things in life that I feel like all I have left is my depression. I know I still have family who love me and I have some amazing friends, most of all my very very best friend. Without her, life would not be bearable. But I'm afraid if they fix my brain I'll wake up and fully appreciate the disaster zone I have left behind.

I don't know what to do with myself or really who I even am anymore, beyond my broken brain. I'm afraid I waited too long to get the help I needed and there won't be anything to go back to once I'm "well." I know that's absurd but I'm having a hard time seeing it in any other light.

One day at a time, one breath at a time. I wish my brain had a damn universal remote and would just do what I wanted it to. I'm tired of not feeling like I'm in control of my own life. I'm tired of feeling like the whole world has control over me. I didn't use to be like that. Once upon a time I felt like I was in control. In fact, there were days when I had my Pinky and I could give Brain a run for his money in ruling the world.

On the flip side, facebook stalking has become a new past time for me. I'm really glad there isn't some electronic widget that says how many times you view someone's page. and if they did have one, it should flag you like the sex offenders are flagged. I could see myself running around with a scarlet F, for facebook stalker.

I also think I need something completely random to get me over my slump. So, if there are any boys looking for a job as pool boy, please submit your resumes to my secretary.

sigh

I don't know what I continue to put myself in these situations. I mean really. I'm fucking stupid. I'm so mad at myself. and I have been really on edge lately. Since I learned I may be bipolar... not definite until I go see the shrink, I've been analyzing my moods. And if I'm bipolar I have definitely been more manic lately. which in my hands is very very very dangerous. I just want to curl up and find a way to erase my memory from the minds of everyone I know... god I hate my head... and I hate the fact my mind is boycotting me.. I just want a vacation from my head and I want it to all go away.

klnadsf

I'm tired. I feel like my life is splitting into 2 personalities. There is the one half of me, that wants to get better. She wants to have a normal life and be happy and connect with people. She wants to have hopes and dreams and do something with her life and mean something to people.

Then there is the dark half of me that can't let go of being fucking miserable. She is also trying to get me to completely self destruct. She wants to push everyone out of her life, especially the two people really holding her in. It's like she's fucking allergic to people.

And right now, I feel like I'm stuck in the middle of these two people. Most of the people in my life right, will do just fine without me around. fuck most of them don't even notice me when I'm there. and if they do, they don't really see me. people are so oblivious...

and right now, I'm in that pushing and testing phase of my life. I like to set up these tests for people, ones I know they have no hope of ever passing and then when they fail, it supports my own self destruction.. like... if people really knew me at all, they would fight harder to make sure that they included me.... and if they aren't including me it means they don't really want me to be a part of their lives... and if they don't want me to be a part of their lives, then I am right, and there is nothing keeping me here.

In reality... if you push people away, long enough and hard enough, they aren't going to keep running into the wall for you. No one can.. and I'm a 70' fucking brick wall. And I don't blame people. You can only try so hard to help save someone, but if they don't want to be saved, you can't do much. And I think I've pretty much pushed everyone in my life to that point.. the... wtf... if you want help then fucking take it, and if you don't, then get on with it so we can all cry and move forward.

I know if I make it through all this, I'll want to have those people on the other side... and yet, I feel like I'm setting myself up to fail.. you know... push them all away, so when you do pull through this, you have nothing left, so you can go right back to being miserable.

and that's the meat of it really. I don't know how to not be miserable. In fact, I'm terrified of it. I think a part of me really deserves to just be miserable all the time and have nothing in my life worth fighting or living for.

Then I'm thrown back into feeling guilty about the people who have put forth the effort and aren't letting me go and letting me float away into oblivion. some days I just want the break.. I just don't want to feel anymore... I want all the pain to just be gone.. and to go to sleep and dream, and if I can't wake up and have some relief then I just don't want to wake up.

and that isn't fair.. at least not yet. One of these days I'm going to have the proof of my argument or be better... I just wish that day was today... I'm really so freaking tired. I was told tonight.. I look exhausted from the inside out.. means I need a thicker shell or mask..

a thin thread

Right now I'm hanging by a very thin thread. I sunk in and called and made some appointments. My therapist thinks I'm bipolar and we'll see if the shrink thinks so too. If I am, that means a life time of medicine.. a life time of pills to make me be a functioning part of society. Which means, instead of simply willing my personality to die, I get to do it with pills instead. This was the problem the last time I saw someone. I'm not any happier now than I was before. Because, before I was convinced I could will myself better. Now, I know that isn't a possibility.

I don't have much hope that this battle is winable or really even worth getting into the fight over. But I'm not completely giving up. I still owe it to the people who have put the effort in, to at least explore my options. I still hate myself and things haven't really gotten better.

Altho, I suppose that is all a matter of conjecture. I mean, I'm not crying every day. The thoughts are still there, the impulses, the self loathing, the hatred. I still feel worthless and no amount of convincing has actually happened yet.

I'm still stuck in the cross roads. I don't know which way to go and right now, every path thru the forest still leads to the same place.

I've had a few moments the last couple of days, where the world didn't seem as bleak and things felt almost ok.. and like fucking clockwork, it all came crashing back. Bob, my demon, still won't leave me alone or shut up or even give me a break.

I'm still not sleeping... altho, I'm no longer waking up because someone keep showing up randomly in my dreams right before I wake up. I'm exhausted and find that right now, the only thing keeping me fighting is the people fighting for me. I feel like, right now, I'm only going to fight as hard as people fight to want to keep me around.. because really... those people are the only ones keeping me here. And the list of people fighting this war with me is extremely small.

So.. I'm still rather convinced that my argument is valid.. that people don't need me nearly as much as they want me to think they do.. and that almost everyone would go on about their lives if I was here or not...

And as I think that, I came to the realization that my life stopped when my grandpa died. I haven't ever really moved on and dealt with that loss. While I've functioned and existed and been there and done some things... I haven't really lived since I put him in the ground.. and I'm quite certain I've never impacted anyone in my life to that point... so it's a give and take, a tug of war...

And right now, the thread pulling me back the hardest keeps pulling, and I'm thankful for her... I just can't help but wondering how long it's going to take for that thread to break.

anger

I hate me. I hate that I can't seem to fucking learn my lesson. Lifetime after lifetime... friend after friend, lover after lover. I'm mad that I let myself open up. I'm mad that I let it all out. I'm mad that I thought I could give it another go and maybe not fail this time. I thought.. maybe I can do this.. and what a big fucking surprise... I fell apart ... again. I always fall apart. I can't keep my shit together and I can't understand who people can just sit there and look at me like I'm useful or something worth looking at. Right now I'm really pissed off that you think I'm worth anything at all. I'm pissed off that you think I deserve anything better than this. How could I? I always fuck it up. Always... and you know why.. because I can't shut my fucking brain off. I can't stop being sad pathetic broken me. I can't let go of the past and I can't embrace the future and when I let things go I get hurt and getting hurt causes me to be an emotional 4 year old and my whole world stops turning because I can't learn my lesson and I can't fucking move forward. I'm tired of crying and I'm tired of caring and being careful and being considerate and I'm tired of wanting things for everyone else and seeing them get it. and I'm tired of not getting what I want because I can't stop being a stupid self destructive bitch. god I'm so mad at myself that I can't fucking figure this out. I shouldn't need people to come by and wipe my emotional ass. I should be strong for them and the person they deserve me to be. i should be able to be happy and be thankful for the good things I have and all I can do is dwell on more fucking shit to be more fucking depressed about because I don't have enough reasons to hate myself... and I do, obviously, hate myself. I mean.. as far as I'm concerned I'm the biggest more worthless piece of shit ever.. and it doesn't matter how many people tell me I'm not and how many people tell me I'm important to them and how many people tell me I've really done something to change their lives. I can't take their word for it because I'm fucking selfish and I like feeling like this. If I hate myself and refuse to see that I have any good in me then I can continue to hate myself and be miserable.. which is what I'm good at.. being miserable.. in fact I think I've fucking perfected the god damned art. I want a new start. I want a do over. I want to be stronger from the beginning and not start the duct tape so young. I want to be able to work through my issues and my images of self doubt. I want to be enough for my dad so that he'd want to love me. I want to be the grandson my grandpa deserved. I want to be the friend to my friends I should have been. I want to be the student I should have been and the daughter I should have been and the sister I should have been. I want to take back the desire to cut myself open and I want to stop the bleeding deep inside... and no matter how hard I try to make the changes and make the differences it's like the fucking blackness just wont' wash away and it keeps coming back because I can't really kill it and make it go away. I can't make myself be ok with me because I'm not ok with me. It's not that I'm really worried that others are disappointed in me... which is my excuse a lot.. honestly... I'm disappointed in myself. I have high standards and I fail to meet them on a daily basis.. and all I really want right now is a drink and some pills and to be bleeding.. not dead mind you... I need to be here to suffer more later... but I want to be a blank pool of nothingness, no feeling, no hurt, no love, no loss... I just want to be numb from the inside out.. and I can't ever really accomplish that... because regardless of how much I try and hide from the world and hide from myself. I just can't stop fucking feeling. I feel everything. I feel the love others have and I feel the hate others have and the sadness and the joy and the lust and the hunger and evil and darkness... I feel it all around me all the time... and I don't feel like I deserve to have any of the good things in life because I would just waste them and people who waste don't deserve what they are given.. look at how much of my life I've wasted now... god I just want to hit and punch and break things. I want to run and run and run and be far away from everyone I've ever hurt with my selfishness...

and I want to be strong. I want to be able to be a good friend and I want to be able to show someone all the love I have to give, because in spite of how much I may hate myself I have so much love to give it's unreal... I just can't let go. i can't open myself up and let it all out because it's all tainted right now, with all the darkness inside.. all the darkness I've been carrying around all these years... all the self hatred and the loathing and feeling like I was never good enough because every man I ever really loved left me... and I never felt like I was good enough or did enough or earned enough to be worthy of that love...

I feel like I'm crumbling and falling apart. I'm afraid of what's left inside of me where a heart used to be. I'm afraid of the person I am now, because the person I used to be I killed a long time ago. That girl who had hopes and dreams had to die if I was going to be able to hide the darkness inside. I had to control the monster before it got out. I had to put her down so she wouldn't ruin things and hope for things beyond her reach and the more I killed her every damn day the more she has haunted me.

How do you teach yourself to love yourself when all you want to do is throw up when you see yourself in the mirror? How do you love yourself when you've become everything that you hate? How do you erase years and years of tarnish and burns and scars? how do you wash it all away and become clean enough to start over..

and when you look back at the ruin you've caused all the people who did love you this whole time... how do you ask their forgiveness for being a selfish stupid fucking bitch you was so self centered that she threw every good thing she ever had away... and how do you look them in the eye and say... I'm sorry I was a fucking cunt and insulted the love you gave me by telling you it wasn't good enough for me...

a poem

Forbidden
Amanda Wilson

Of all the things you’ve ever been to me
You’ve mostly been forbidden

There are days when I long for your touch
And it’s always out of the question

You never seem to notice
How much you really touch me

You never seem to hear my whispers
As I whisper how much I love thee

And yet, I do not blame you
The fault has always been mine

For wanting something so enticing
For wanting something so fine

I have always lingered
In the shadow of your presence

Always watching
Always waiting

For the day when you’d tell me
You’re no longer forbidden

revelations

It seems that my choice of fiction always seems to correlate with all the crazy fucking bat shit in my head. When I read Memnoch the Devil, I was searching for God and found the answers I was looking for... when I was falling apart this week I was reading Lover Enshrined and learned about my addiction... and yes.. I'm still addicted to my depression and to pain. And now, I just finished reading The Lost Symbol... which relates to my search for my transformation this year.

I was told by a mentor that this year would be full of amazing trials for me. And that the year of my 28th birthday would hold many transformations... all important for me to become the self I am supposed to be...

And right now... as with many of my struggles in life, I'm dealing with love. You know.... I always used to get so pissed off that people would tell me I couldn't really love someone else until I learned to love myself.. I mean.. I love my friends and family and would do anything for them, including lay down my life... not that we are ever really put in that position... it was always easy for me to do for others before myself... so easy in fact, that doing for myself became painful...

And today I realized... they were all right. I can't love anyone else until I can love myself... because if I try and love someone now, as I am now, I will only infect them with my self loathing and self hatred and kill the good things they have inside of them. And until I can learn to not hate myself so deeply, how can I ever give anyone the love the deserve. I have been more selfish than I previously thought I had. I've been trying to force people to accept my love in an attempt to hide my self hatred.

And where did it all come from? I can't really answer that, but the thoughts have been in my head for so long, that hating myself is easier and more necessary to my life than breathing. I can't do things for myself because I'm taking away from doing for others.. and I can't really love them because I'm toxic like I am now.. and this revelation has led me to believe, what I have believed all along, that like I am now, they are better off without me in their lives...

Now recently, I made a promise to the two people who pulled me through my last melt down that I wouldn't do anything really stupid... and by really stupid I mean terminally stupid. And I won't. At least not today. It would be very cowardly for me to do that.. and why stop the punishment when I so obviously feel like I need more of it.

Today I will sit in my squalor and I will reflect on the life I have around me. I know the kind of life I'd like to lead, one where I can be happy and functioning... I'm just not sure I deserve the opportunity for that life anymore... with all the wasted things I've done and all the things I've thrown away...

and yet... with each break down comes a sacrifice... each time I choose to stay here, cheating evolution of its prize, I've had to give up something I loved.... First it was my grandfather... then it was my painting... then it was my writing... and now.... once I finally found something worth opening the depths of the bat cave for.. I have to sacrifice once more, because it's the only thing left I love that I have to give.. and no.. it's not myself.. no emergency calls to lock me up in a padded room... the only thing I have left to give up is my shattered illusion of love... and with that gone.. I sit in solemn silence on a dull dark dock in a penitential prison with a life long lock awaiting a sensation from short sharp shock from a cheap chippy chopper on a big black block...

Addict

Hello my name is Manda.. and I'm an addict. I'm addicted to my depression. I'm addicted to drugs and alcohol. I'm addicted to sex. I'm addicted to pain. And I can no longer pretend that my addiction is hurting only me.

I recently fell apart and had 2 people there to help pull me back together. I can barely manage to look them in the eyes. I am ashamed. I don't want them to see me less than what I am. Scratch that. I don't want them to see me as I really am. I am an addict. I am pathetic and I have let my life slip through my fingers.

I look down at myself and see the ruins of a life that could have been. I look in the mirror and I see the eyes of someone who has seen immense sorrow. And yet, I wonder, was there ever really a good cause for that sorrow? I have not had a hard life. I have not been beaten. I don't have some tragic, incurable disease. I have not lost a limb. I am not disabled in any way other than my mind is toxic to itself. It's almost like I have that disorder where your blood doesn't recognize itself and starts attacking your body. That is what it feels like in my head.

I have so much to be thankful for in my life. I have great friends, two of which I owe my life to. I have a rather functional family. I have happy pseudo children, my brothers and sister. They function well and are growing up to be damn fine people. I have a damn good paying job. And yet, nearly every time I look in the mirror all I can see is the darkness... and it is my old friend. No one has been there to comfort me in my hours of need like the darkness.

And yet the darkness has been a cruel master, always leaving me yearning a little bit more. I've always wanted to slip just a little farther inside, yearning to be more distant and more cold. If I could simply turn off the emotions then I could stop the hurt. If I can't feel love then I can't feel it's loss. If I can't feel happiness then I can't feel sadness. And I couldn't be more wrong.

The darkness was full of an infecting sadness like no other, a dark, toxic disease that seeps into the depths of a soul and consumes from the inside until all you're left with is a hollow shell of the person you used to be.

And everyone still recognizes you, because, you still look the same. You still smell the same and if you're good, you still act mostly the same. A few of the really observant ones can see the sadness in your mask. A few will ask you what's up and be concerned, but they are quickly dissuaded by your convincing line of bs. And if they aren't convinced they are too lazy or too overwhelmed to push the issue.

You know you're real friends because they know you're in hell and are willing to put on the waders and come in after you. You may not recognize them and you may fight against them. You need this darkness to kill the need inside of you. You are convinced that if you simply stay here long enough they will forget that you were there. They will leave you alone and then no one will see the darkness that has surrounded you. It's a false sense of a camouflage.

And if you're lucky they will still come for you. They will beat you senseless and drag you out despite your kicking and screaming. They will throw you in the shower and wash away the mud and the darkness and towel you off. They will feed you and hold your hand and watch you while you cry. And once you're clean enough again to remember where you are, all that's left is the shame. They have seen you like this and there is no excuse. No reason for you to be so addicted to the darkness.

It doesn't matter how many people you've lost, because all people die. Deal. It doesn't matter that you were raped, all people are taken against their will in same way or another. Deal. It doesn't matter that you're just sad. Deal. Just put on your fucking big girl panties and deal. Life isn't that hard. It is doable. So many people who are so much worse than you manage to deal and function.

What is your fucking problem? Really? Why can't you get out of bed? Why can't you be happy with what you have? Why can't you just wake up and smell the god damned roses? They are there, looking at you, asking... why won't you just give in and smell us? We are here, for such a short time, just smell us.

And I look in the mirror and see the rabbit hole I've crawled out of and I see the roses and my friends and life happening without me. I see it all around me like I'm stuck in a glass box, always watching never feeling, never experiencing. So I take my blade and I cut and the only color in my box is the red of the blood that falls and I see everyone around me living their lives. I feel like I'm drowning. And inside my box no one can see me because I'm in the box. No one has a key and it's like I'm on display. Look at the pretty post modern barbie, overweight and out of control. And no one sees that I'm hollow and rotten on the inside.

So I take my pills and I drink my booze and I cut my skin and I'm an addict. And it hurts the people I love most because I don't know how to let them help me and I don't know how to let them in. Because I'm dead inside and nothing will kill the voice.

My name is Manda and I'm an addict. And I've been sober for 3 hours.

Lets try take 2

So... after some really random drama and some major self destructive tendencies.. I've decided.. that well... maybe.... I should try this again.. and maybe... this would be a good place to start up shop.