Monday, May 7, 2012

Monday Madness #13


Be careful not to drown

I love the feeling I get after watching a film. Having been pulled into another world for the past ninety minutes or so leaves a mark on me. I float, and for a moment, the present feels richer and less terrible. I feel like somebody else. I feel like I have adapted, like I have new qualities absorbed from the people I have seen on the screen. I don't know if that means I have reality issues. It's just a part of my being. I've always been an escapist of some sort. Also, I like to look for new layers in how I am feeling. I suppose it is natural of us to look for things that are in some way or other reflective of our current situation. Some of us seek the opposite. But I tend to lean toward similarities and connections. I look for layers. I look for new viewpoints. And usually I succeed in my endeavor.

I haven't been able to write for several weeks now, maybe a month, I don't know. I've been drifting in some sort of sea of depression and self pity and whatever else black and disgusting. I'm still stuck in the slime. My life is getting very weird and unfitting to my persona. I have a new home, a new room, a second chance - and a ripped apart family. The last little remnants of emotional and genetical rope have been cut loose. I am presented with ideals foreign to me. I am presented with things I cannot see through and things I cannot know the truth of and am just asked to believe. 

I am hurt a little every day, for I am in an environment where the people I live with do not know me well at all and do not share my interests and ideals. I fear I have lost the person who understood me and accepted me. Here, I am constantly questioned. I am constantly under criticizing eyes. I am pushed and pulled in ways that damage me. And I do not like it at all. I miss my old supposed-to-be life. At least parts of it. I'm a person that tends to look back too much and wonder how things would have turned out, had they been done differently.

I remember when, back in December, I'd gone on a cutting spree on my thigh and sat on the couch with it wrapped up and aching and there were two dogs to cuddle with. I watched Mr. Nobody, and oh the connection I felt. I wanted to do one thing and the other. Split up, have two lives. Do things I am not able to do now because of things done earlier on in my life. I wanted to both run after my father and stay with my mother and cut out the other parent and still live with both. I'd felt this ache so many times and there it was right in front of me. Nothing is real, everything is possible.

I have always been disinclined to take reality as it is. Often, even in childhood, I'd imagine my life a movie. I'd imagine why things happened the way they did, I'd add side-plots and sub-plots and shut other plots and things and people out because they didn't fit my script. I'd take one of my days and subtitle it for someone who didn't know my first language. I have always loved to lie. Not in a filthy manner so as to hurt people. But to make things more interesting, to distract myself, to play with reality. Stories are lies. Movies are lies. Books are lies. Art is a lie. Music is a lie. Fiction. A portrayal of something factual is always twisted. Cameras make mistakes, even when capturing exactly the things you want to capture...

I cannot sleep. The nights are the worst. I think of the past, I think of my father, I think of what is happening, I think of what has happened, I think of the effects things have, the effects I can have or could have already had and I am scared to death. I have become most confident there are several people in me. In a way I am like Nemo Nobody. I am fictitious. I could have died because of a voice inside of me. I was strong enough to have myself be taken to hospital for the night but what if something like that happens again? 

I love how I spend one night in hospital due to suicidal thoughts and voices and whatnot and get papers for treatment in my new destination and now, it has been several weeks and I am still in the dark, full to the rim and with nobody and nothing to pour it out to. I am happy, I have moments of happiness every day. But at the same time I have never been as depressed as I am right now. And it scares me. My body scares me because I don't know what it wants. 


4 Comments So Far:

  1. I know whenever I don't write, the emotional dishes pile up and begin to stink. When I write, the dishes become clean. To me, your writing is inspirational. I see your cutting as a fractal in some ways. Your honesty and writing skills cut in the same way. I admire the structure in how you write. It is something I can learn from. Writing is your lifejacket. It won't keep you from drowning, but it will help you stay afloat.

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