Voices ruining my mood and memories again.
It’d be fine if they never brought you up, I’d laugh and laugh and laugh, but they do.
They take these special moments from me and twist and pervert them into doubt and distrust.
Now I’ve tried my best to discard everything I feel, but still I’m here typing.
Like I said, if they didn’t say anything at all about you, I think I’d be okay.
I’d still look crazy, laughing hysterically and talking to myself,
But it’d be better than this.
I’m not posting these things to my story, instead I’m coming across them as I view my friend’s story. With that said, if I don’t want to see them, do I unfollow my friend’s story? Do I lose a friend just because their lovesickness is infecting me? No. It’s better to just, I don’t know, “honor” these feelings, know they exist, and in that, care for myself, I think. It’s clear to me that I just can’t, completely and perfectly get away from this, from you, although I wish I could. But as I see these new memes and images, I wonder…am I a vampire? Lol.
I didn’t even hit “like” on these lol, but I did contemplate making a folder on Instagram of posts that “bring me back.”
I suppose this blog will do.
Take care.
Voices in my head have been saying a lot recently.
that every time I blog you fight with your husband.
That they want me to get over you now, and move on.
These voices have been with me for so long now, you’d think they’d pull from more of my life.
I remember a time before this, where I was moving in and through the streets. Out every other night, liquor every other night.
Why doesn’t it bring up those girls? Why just you?
Granted, I laughed when the voices first started, laughed at everyone except for you.
But now what? They want me to try all over again? While I’m fat and undesirable?
Going off of my last blog, I should’ve gave into desperation of trying to start a family alongside my friends to raise our kids together.
Marry someone out of a need outside of love.
I’d be miserable, and have less money than I have now, that’s for certain, kids ain’t cheap.
Still, my number one rule for these voices is:
“If you want me to get over her, stop bringing her up.”
And yeah, I will remember your birthday every year, that’s a given, but one day out of the year is better than these come and go blogs to no one (myself) constantly making me bitchless in Boston.
I should just make this page private.
But that’s be dishonest.
But people really don’t care what you’re going through so why tell them at all? Why let them know?
Because I’m 5 months down the line in a relationship with some other girl and she’s wondering why I don’t smoke weed and talk to myself so frequently and I gotta tell them I’m thinking about my ex from when I was 19.
It’s just better that everyone knows.
Write me off.
Cast me out.
I become nothing.
And move to a country where “cheating” is “normalized.”
France.
Japan.
Die alone, or at least with someone that gives fewer fucks.
What the hell am I saying…
I’m watching an anime where a 400 year old Dearf Warrior is defending a village until he dies because his human wife loved it and it brings him happiness.
I see these same themes reflected in EVERYTHING.
I’m not crazy.
At the end of it maybe I’ll make art of you.
Of all of this…
Edit//P.S.:
Maybe! (DEFINITELY!!!) these emotions would be better directed at someone that loves me back, but I’m not fucking crazy.
Didn’t get much sleep last night, might try to sneak in a few hours before work.
Voices were talking about how you got your degree. Whether it was consensual or not (intercourse) they keep calling you a retard, keep saying I’m better than you, keep saying “someone else,” in this case, “T.”
What’s interesting now is that new voices are being added to the peanut gallery. Voices of people I’m close with at work, and they don’t belittle me, they don’t sound bitter or angry or disappointed, they have nothing bad to say, but they’re all making bets in my mind.
On what? Who’s to say?
Maybe the odds that we try again, but that already seems and feels like an impossibility.
These people, they’ve told me before that if I ever find a new partner, find someone that’s kind.
You so far have been played up to be worthless, useless, and a spineless coward, and I suppose that’s where your cruelty comes from.
I saw something that said “all cruelty comes from weakness.”
Here we are.
Oddly specific things I find on the internet. “Idealism” folder in the Google drive. Howard was an artist. While time I’m just like “FUCK, well someone’s gotta do it.”
These last few days have been rough. A lot worse than how it’s been in a long time, but I managed to pull through without calling you or e-mailing you so I guess I’m getting better at living with this illness.
Still, I don’t know what to pursue.
I know I’m making small steps towards change, a new, brighter future but maybe right now, in this moment, as I type, I’m feeling impatient.
For the last 20 minutes or more I felt the clarity of mind I hadn’t had in a while, and it’s nice to know that I guess I come down from the high of utter madness, but still I wish I wouldn’t go crazy at all.
There are happy emotions and feelings mixed in with the negative ones too.
I don’t like that I revisit this love but I’m happy I’ve known love, ya’know?
All in all, I suppose it is what it is.
Do you remember “The Unbearable Lightness of Being?”
”Ess muss sein, muss ess sein?”
I got the updated german language version:
Es ist wie es ist.
Just typing to type here don’t mind me.
I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me.
I mean your birthday comes up and all of a sudden I’m suffering for two months.
I mean yeah, it makes sense that I’d think of you on your birthday. That’s what I memorized, I wanted to be there on birthdays, and all holidays, if I could, that makes sense, but making sense is not enough to rid me of my madness.
I’m split into two or more people.
I try to make my feelings small in my mind, cut off the thoughts, disregard the voices but still, if I don’t do anything, if I bottle up how I feel, I think I’d start taking my frustration out on the people around me.
At least that’s what I was like when I was a teenager, 13.
And my life, it isn’t perfect, but it’s beautiful.
I have been blessed, in many ways, and even in the way that I think I learned to love, that I love(d) you.
It doesn’t make sense to continue loving you, with all the nasty things you’ve said to me, and (for your own safety) sending me to jail, but every time I try to throw away these emotions, to drown them in misery, to strangle them knowing I should pursue someone else, they come back. Like a horror movie, but it isn’t that dramatic.
I love feeling love, I love the happy feeling these thoughts bring me, they are in fact, easing from time to time, but isn’t it bittersweet to love someone that doesn’t love you back?
And how do I go on explaining this to “the next girl” that I’ve effectively made a public shrine to you that anyone can see if they peer deep enough into my blog, into my life.
It’s sickening, and I think maybe I should just make this blog private, so no one can see, but I can already see the questions:
“What’s on that private page?”
“What do you have there?”
I’m not attempting to lead a double life.
Being with me would also mean being with my burden, and that’s true for anyone, but I do think this blog halts progress, in the sense that, someone interested in me finds it, reads it, gets upset and decides I’m not worth the effort.
Sweet Aphrodite, grant me the love that will move me beyond this burden, find me a love that thinks I am worth the effort.
In Jesus name.
Namu Amids Butsu.
The voices have been mentioning you all day today, I feel like even if I take my medication, I can’t escape this new chapter that I’m in, and I’m hesitant to ask the doctor to increase my dosage, since I’m on an opiate and I already think I have a chemical dependency on it. That is to say, if I don’t take it for long enough, I can’t sleep.
The voices also go around telling me things you do and don’t do, things you remember, things you love. All of these totems, rituals, acts, objects, that represent me in your life, but nothing to avail me of my yearning. Some yearning in me that comes from beyond my conscious mind. Some cry of the soul that I turn to see and turn back from.
I’m going in circles. I’m feeling in circles.
Maybe I’m wiring in circles..?
The voices say your “husband” dumped out all of your medication, but this is a great reason to call your doctor, explain the event, and see if there is anyway your doctor could find you temporary or maybe permanent housing to escape an abusive relationship.
I don’t know if any of what the voices are saying is true, you yourself described it as “illusive ranting” (or maybe that wasn’t you, specifically) but if it is true, if any of it is true, that’d be my solution.
I have a headache.
Voices in my head keep saying you WISH you gave me a blowjob, anyway, this podcast:
The” Gluck Gluck 9000”
No sex
No drugs
No wine
no women
no fun
no sin
no you
no wonder it’s dark
everyone avoids me like a total stranger
everyone avoids me like a cyclone ranger
everyone
Saw a video on Instagram of a girl with her guy getting her period…
Should I always keep backup Freya in the freezer or do you not like frozen chocolate?
My buddy from Sweden keeps Marabou around the house but I think it’s just for him. He has a partner don’t get me wrong but HE* thinks it’s the best chocolate in the world…
Anyway…
It is pretty good chocolate though, lol.
At the time I sent the gift basket of chocolate and crackers I didn’t think that I should specifically send the brand “Freya”
I apologize, to you, and the office, but I don’t think I’m going to do it again.
Voices just said if you had stayed you would have behaved like Steiner, who galavants and does whatever he wants.
Now I’m finally hearing things I can understand.
Voices also said that in the past tense, and I know you’ve already said how you have a husband and a child.
Good. Hopefully the end of this will arrive soon.
Voices are talking about this time I was admitted to the hospital by my grandmother and while I was on the stretcher a girl that looked similar/sort of like you walked in and pointed at me down the hall and walked out.
Obviously, the “thing to do” would have been to chase you down in the throes of my madness and get all the answers I needed to get or wanted to get out of you then, but I’m in my head even when I’m out of my mind and I knew that doing that would only make my situation worse.
Another week long or more stay at the looney bin and I am where I am now, sans other details.
I don’t know why they zero in and bring up these hyper specific events but hey, I guess I’m just rolling with it.