Deeper and Drunk

I had this idea earlier in the night to try and “go deeper” with my thoughts and feelings, really try to get to the root of all this. I found this post:

The problem is when the voices come on to me, and start to chip away at my mind that’s not anything I can control. I can ignore it for a while but like you (maybe not you specifically but someone else reading this, maybe) see now I have to vent, and if I don’t vent I will bottle up these emotions, and we all know bottling up emotions leads to a negative outcome. I don’t want to pursue a new, another relationship with bottled up emotions and be emotionally distant or lashing out at my partner because I’m not receiving love from you. I recently tweeted-

And like literally so fucking what?! Like FUCK I HAVE A PROBLEM, A MENTAL ILLNESS AND A BITCH WITH BIPOLAR CAN STILL HAVE A BABY AND A HUSBAND SO WHY NOT ME?!

It’s dumb to compare myself, for one, they probably made it a goal for them to find love again, right now I’m exploring polyamory just because I feel like I’d feel better if I was just someone on the side.

It’s like a trial to conquer jealousy. It’s an exercise in freedom.

Freedom from what? I don’t know, “traditionalism” I would call it, because I feel like I just don’t belong here.

But that’s a number of different factors that separate me from the “haves” and “have nots” I’m like, somewhere in the middle of it all, because I’m counting my skin color, now that I recognize racism that isn’t necessarily enacted against me, but was formed around me, from prior systems, before I was even conceived.

But we’re getting off topic, I just watched a video that threw me off of what I was writing earlier.

Like I said, I don’t control all the thoughts in my head, which is what prevents me from following conventional advice.

I don’t want a relationship, because those thoughts I can’t control will bring up feelings I have to reconcile with. A girl would be in a relationship with me, and I’d be in a relationship with her, and you, even if it’s just the you that lives in my head.

No bueno.

So what do I do?

Right now I’m focusing on getting back in shape. I downloaded some dating apps but my sneaking suspicion is that honestly no one will look at me as “fuckable” until I’m under 200lbs, so I’m 100lbs away from that.

Ok fine whatever.

Then, just getting out more.

The pandemic really fucked everything up but I got a raise at work, I have a bit more income that I can use to be social, go to parties, the bar, really try to forget my troubles for as long as the night goes on.

Been playing with the idea of partying in New York on the weekends for a few years now. It’s a bit more expensive, but currently I’ve been making it work partying in Rhode Island almost once a month, but it’s much cheaper to get down there and cruise around for 2-3 days.

This is the part where I say “I wish I was partying with you.” But honestly I wish I was sharing the experience with anyone that would want the experience.

I don’t know a goddamn thing about who you are right now.

I know one thing, I know where you work, and that’s really it.

It’s odd to me that as much as I’ve grown and changed I still find myself going mad at the fact that I’m still “wIlLiNg To GiVe YoU a ChAnCe” like it’s fucking Destiny, like its BOUND TO HAPPEN, ANYDAY NOW, WHEN I HAVE A MULTITUDE OF EVIDENCE THAT PROVES THAT THATS ONLY A FLIGHT OF FANCY. A FANTASY THAT ONLY EXISTS IN MY HEAD!

But why is it there to begin with?! Why does the universe/god/my fucking Brain remind me?! Why did I get fucking cursed to live like this? Why am I stuck at the crossroads of love?

It’s fucking pitiful.

And all the self help I absorb fails to rid me of my burden.

If I could pull my hair out I would have, I’m lucky it’s short and curly, that’s saved me from self inflicted bald spots.

I feel like there’s more I can write. We both probably know there’s more I can write, but I just want to drink and smoke or do some snus and just feel and forget, at least for a little while.

Just a little while…

Janteloven

Trying to get clues from my psychosis. Going further into insanity after already accepting that I’m fucking insane.

Feces

I don’t know why but the voices keep talking about consuming, eating feces, shit, fecal matter.

That you would’ve “eaten shit” to stay in Boston or whatever.

I remember the day at the hostel when you told me you ate shit and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

But along with this message they also say you’d have never taken my last name in marriage. Not necessarily saying we would never get married but that you’d “never be a Fairclough.”

And finally, they say “that’s why you wouldn’t want to sell me out.”

When I posted about NMPlol and Malena, I heard her voice in my head saying “Who sold me out?” And like, two weeks later, a 10 or 15 year marriage they had with one another was over and they’re in the process of divorce.

It’s strange, completely egotistical to think that that’s because of me, because some authority in Norway saw that and decided to “call her back home” or some shit and it was my fault that it happened but the timing of it all really made it feel like that.

I don’t know how their relationship was, but I do know he was a millionaire, and even that didn’t make her want to stick around, which, in all honesty seems fairly common nowadays. Having money in some respects is having security but that’s not enough to decided to weather the trials and tribulations.

Anyway.

Broken Record

This random burst of psychosis really played on the myth and madness.

I feel like I want to say that somewhere deep down I wish we could have a relationship again but at the same time I’m forced to live with the reality of what is true and that I know.

And I’ve said this time and time again, but it never gets easier. It’s this fucking boomerang.

And I just keep trying to put one foot forward, another step just inches ahead of the loving arm as it tries to drag me back to the depths of celibacy and infantile longing, yearning for a day that you’ll recognize my affection.

It feels so fucking pathetic.

I feel so fucking pathetic.

And I know this is human, people go through this, music and art is about this, blah blah blah blah blah!

But I just want to forget, I want to feel good, I want to love again and I want to be free!!!

It’s either with or without you and I’m forced to live without so why even leave space for you in my heart? Why even tempt the idea that there could ever be a “with” ever again?!

Because I don’t hate you.

I’m trying to consider how you feel, beyond what you’ve told me.

I want to just understand.

So many people that I’ve loved, friends, lovers, have left me alone, and I begin to wonder if there is something categorically wrong with me?

Like am I the bad guy here, or am I just a victim of growing pains?

The people at work love me, lots of people have good things to say about me, but the people I love the most seem to leave me high and dry.

Is it my fault? Am I wearing rose colored glasses all the time?

This fucking sucks!

IM NOT EVER DRUNK!!!

Mention this on the main blog for September

When I watch videos or listen to audio, like the radio, people talking to one another they say things like

“You wouldn’t want to be with (insert your name)”

“(insert your name) is over you”

“(insert your name) has been cheating on you”

And sometimes they mention other peoples names.

I can’t really control this, all I can do is take my medication and not smoke marijuana.

It’s little things like this that kind of chip away at the stone I use to guard my heart, so I don’t relapse and take another trip to Norway.

Like emotional or mental erosion, every time I hear your name.

It’s easy to see why this can, uphold the “myth” or “madness” of me still loving you.

whatever the truth is, I wanted to write this down, in the even of some untimely death I hope, at least, that my words and ramblings on my psychosis can help people understand this diagnosis more.

Lesbian

Trying to sleep, voices are playing images of two women engaging in what I think is sexual activity, at least caressing each other and kissing, and saying “That would be a Dan Fairclough”

Implying you’d rather be a lesbian than engage in, whatever other options you have.

No anger or resentment, not directed at you, just directed at whatever power decided to inform me as well.

Despite all this pain...

Despite all this pain that I go through, thinking and hearing of you, none of which is your fault, it’s just the cards that life drew for me, despite it all-

Life is good.

I’m alive, I’m healthy, I’m building wealth.

Life is good, and life will get better!

Scenarios/Day Dreams/Delusions

“Someone Else” seems to be a topic of the voices discussion. Like they can’t believe the person that sent you all of those unhinged e-mails, the guy that went to Norway and was arrested could hold down a 9-5 going on 8 years since that campaign of harassment began.

They say I just “become someone else” to get through my day to day life, and this is some concept that Norwegians either understand or are currently grappling with.

Beyond that, I still have all these scenarios fly through my mind about you.

Most recently, while drinking a cup of mint tea, my head was setting the scene, that all the boys you and the other girls left behind in Central and South America or wherever you met us were invited to Norway and had to pick out who we met with you girls on stage.

I volunteered to go first and whip out my ID and ask, “do you remember? At the table in New York?”

and blah blah blah we kiss and make up and in my head we’re back together and honestly that’s why I hate myself because even though you brought me to my lowest point in life I don’t have it in me to hold a grudge against you.

I just love you, and if I try to stop, somehow, the universe decides to remind me that I love you.

So I’ll go on loving you, forgiving you, wishing you well.

Better positive vibes than negative ones I guess.

Self-Hatred

Many I’m only posting this here hoping less people will see it.

I feel disgusted with myself, and almost ashamed, ashamed that I haven’t done enough and that what I am doing is taking so goddamn long.

I talk about being kind to you but what about being kind to me? I can’t see to stop kicking my own ass and trying to get in gear for the next great accomplishment.

I feel like I have no money, nothing to brag about, no degree worth mentioning, no family, no kids, no place of my own, no car, nothing that would make me a modern man besides my ambition, which isn’t worth squat until what you want is got.

I hate being/feeling this, impulsive and impatient. I can take a step back and breathe, take a few deep breaths and remember that comparison is the thief of joy but every now and again I’ll get this creeping feeling in the quiet of the night and think that it’s over when really it’s just beginning.

Ugh.

This ain’t your fault

The voices in my head are taking me on a wild ride recently.

They’ve brought me back to that one time when we were in my bedroom, getting it on and I hallucinated, I suppose, someone else in my place and yours, respectfully. A guy and his mother, oddly enough.

I wrote this dark fucked up incestuous revelation to you in e-mails but why lord have I been plagued with these thoughts these last few weeks.

I mean I know I’m guaranteed to think about you on your birthday because if I memorized anything from your ID when we met in New York it was that, but that hallucination was pre-smoking weed. Pre-drug abuse escapism, but definitely filled with people I was familiar with, which of course fuels the theory that my hardship is man made but I can’t prove that either.

The voices go on like you’re still or have always been in communication with that young man, who also has a child of his own, your actions and life mirror his more than mine, maybe I’m destined to become some “famous nightmare” for you but I digress, you two were talking to each other, meant to meet up or be together before I was somehow tangled in the mix.

So the voices talk and reveal to me, I suppose, that you two still talk. And they reveal this more than they claim we will reunite.

Changing subjects because this has been on my mind too, I don’t know that I want to reunite anymore. I mean in 2022 yes, I definitely did, but now I’m thinking, although you have a place in my heart, that place is also in the past, and whether or not your feelings have changed since that 2013 xanga message, where you promised we’d have nothing to do with each other ever again, it feels to me like I’m finally coming to terms with that. I know I still write to you, or you in my head, and that August 4th will forever be a cursed day, but if you did come back there’d be talking. So much talking…

Oi.

Meds

Maybe it’s because I’ve been missing my meds but you’ve been on my mind these last few days, this last month.

I want to be gentle with you, with the idea of you, but I don’t know whether I should be actively loving you or trying to hate you.

I’ve written about it before but I don’t have it in me to hate you, maybe anyone, but especially not you.

People don’t seem to feel the same way about me though, and you’re included in that group of people.

Still, while walking home in the end of the summer weather, I wonder what it would’ve been like if I was able to meet you in Norway when I went, instead of being arrested. I know what I wanted to do, to hug you, give you those gifts, and talk, but things never go the way I expect them to go, and maybe I couldn’t have predicted my own actions, I’m 70% sure it wouldn’t have escalated at least on my part, but that’s in the past now. If I visit Northern Europe again, I’ll go to Sweden.

I don’t know what to do with these thoughts and feelings, with the voices that bring you up, that tell me you’re still holding out your heart for me, that in the end we will be together.

I give no weight to it, I don’t believe it and I definitely don’t sit and wait for it to come true, still, as embarrassing as it is to admit, it can make me feel good. Then I have to take those feelings and shove them into some muscle contraction like it’s a trash can, a garbage disposal.

I know my love was, is real, I know I just want to be done, but dammit if I’m going to bottle it all up and unleash a torrent of undeserving anguish on someone else.

That ain’t right either.

I did listen to a new song today that I added to the playlist, a song that went “I’ll spend the rest of my life leaving you” and I felt that was fitting.

Way better than the Norwegian song, like someone was trying to find where I sourced the music for that playlist to begin with.

But Sigrid was on the playlist this month, and that song wasn’t half bad.

I remember seeing a music video of hers where she was like 15 though, and now she’s 28??? Where did the time go…

See’ya.

Daytime Nightmare(s)


https://www.rfi.fr/en/international-news/20250818-son-of-norway-princess-charged-with-four-rapes

Maybe this is why I thought of you this morning. The voices go on to say something like I’ve been compared to this guy by your co-workers.

That’s just the voices though, I assume I’m not even an afterthought.

Still, I was in bed getting angrier and angrier, to the point where I felt like I should “reach out” before I let that settle and went about my day.

This article just shocked me, that’s why I’m writing this blog.

I was also putting myself down, thinking that you went on to start a family and I just got fat and have a pornography addiction. Not that it really disrupts my life but if I get another partner that isn’t open to porn, she might be more than a bit “shocked.” It is what it is I suppose. I’m working on losing the weight, pursuing a relationship will follow after that I guess.

Hope you are well.