There use to be…

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A time in my life where I would listen to this music over and over and over hopin it would stir something in me, courage maybe to get my cowardly self up and kill my self. I hated bein me, I hated having to wake up, feel the way I did atoneing for my actions daily. I hated my life in a way that was so simple it made sense to end it all. What was this purpose? My presence is only hurting things, the planet, life. Another mouth to feed, another person to take care of, another tax payer living to pay bills. As I put the gun to my head I just didn’t understand what was keeping us all here why do we have this “survival” gene encoded in us. What makes us fear? Why do we fear?  All I knew was that I needed to go. Not to a far away place where my troubles resided still but to another place of another time, of another field, another dimension.  

I had my pick of any gun I wanted- i just separated from my husband (he kicked me out of he house) I was living with my friends ex bf who was a gun collector – most fully loaded some illegal, sitting in this room I choose three. She and he both knew I had been baker acted twice once for suicide, yet they still put me in this room to live till the house we were going to live in was finished remodeling but I had no choice because I had no where else to go… the last time I went home to my family was the first suicide attempt. 

So it’s around midnight thumb on the trigger for a long while safety off ready, waiting, I thought “I have nothing to live for, what’s the point? I have nothing, I’ve done nothing,” and I felt worthless… Then it was like a light bulb came on with two things… One; I’d feel awful if they had to clean my blood stains off the wall and two; that’s my purpose; TO MAKE all those questions mean something and my stubbornness kicked in and I thought I’ll make my life worthwhile, I’ll make my life memorable, I’ll make it a point to live. I rebelled against myself. It wasn’t until later I found my way but it was a stepping stone and a promise, I was by no means “better” or happier, it didn’t make me feel any better but I put it down with intention, not cowardness. I put it down knowing the journey ahead could mean more than just paying bills, more than just getting by

But as I write this here now I see that the last 3 years so much has gotten in my way. And I allowed it. I could give it all up, move away. Never to return. But where’s the life responsibility? How do you tell your brain damaged mother I’m never coming back? Who’s life is in a bad situation… how can I let her life be bad why I try to make mine? So I continue on this path of guilt. 

Disassociation 

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Where you know it’s happening but you’re watching. When you feel your body but can’t control it. Where you understand but don’t act. Numb. Fights inward. Fights outward. Life. Acceptance? Grief, GUILT. What is it? 

Words can’t describe, because words don’t experience. If I place my hands, just there you’ll understand. But you can’t, you don’t accept. 

I give, give, give… to nothing. What do I give? My life, my energy. Does it matter? It only is matter. Matter and their workings. Energy. I put my energy into you. Then what? Push back, flaming death back into my face. But from under it comes. From myself. Was it I who pushed? Did I give to receive this? 

Words, distraught. Words, misunderstood. Words, painful words. They mean nothing. 

But if I place my hands just there, maybe you can understand. I repeat this why? Because you’ll never understand. Never. You will not understand because you are not me, you don’t need to understand, so why speak? Silence, just, patience, time; tried and true 

Fight, fight again, with me with you. Feel the push. Feel. The. Push. When I place my hands just there. It’s true. My hands, they don’t lie. My hands can’t lie, they can’t speak. Truth is hidden, it’s hidden from above, below, under, in, out, around. Forever truth rings in a song. Music so beautifully, painfully, emotional. The music of us. 

Disassociation of life. Reality? Truth? What is it? 

What IS Reality?!

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It is but a dream, a perception of the senses that create a chemical compound to create an image or emotion. Like music in a car or a motion picture. How is it that the “energy” from a computer chip creates a sound or an image that creates a real emotion? But it’s not in front of you, yet this emotion from the music or movie feels real. It pulls you in, you get into a funk after a sad or crazy one, one that makes you think. 

So what different in a trauma of a dream, and real life? This is in my head – all the senses penatrating my brain. Sight, smell, taste, touch and hearing. All of my dreams are real. How is it that I can’t determine the real world and the dream world? I wake up to a familiar scene but that familiar scene can be one of a “reoccurring dream” so I implore what is the real reality? Isnt it that a scene is so monumental in a movie that it’s pulls you closer into the screen? You can’t turn away because of the depth of your feelings – you have no idea who or what is around you – only this moment in a movie. It’s a moment in my mind of these senses that captivate me in this world. How is it that I feel like I can feel other worlds? 
They exist, I’m not talking about aliens, yes those are quite possible – but I’m not all about it, obsessed that they do, I entertain the thought because how is it that I could ever know? Honestly? How is it that I know anything? How can my brain store more or less than yours? How does someone remember something but not another? Chemicals, emotions, feelings. It’s the self. This ego, this soul.  

I, I, i, i, i…. me me ME! That’s how. This is hell. This reality in which we are punished from oneness. 

Dreams; hell. Senses; hell. Life; hell. 

I’m the Bible it says hell is a burning firing pits. That pit in your stomach? That heat when you’re angry? Anger is love’s fear. God IS love. Anger is the separation from God. So here I am living in this hell with only a glimpse of what true love really is. What GOD is. What I’m meant to be – with God. Not as a me or I, but as in love morphed into nothingness and everythingness with God. Because we are made in his “image” in which our human language can’t properly communicate. 

Work and Fear

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So as I mess up, which seems to be on a weekly bases, I find it very hard to stay stable. I am trying so hard to make myself better, and everything that I do, but I find trouble in messing up. It’s like for every good thing that happens, something else bad happens. I haven’t felt the urge to vut myself as badly as I did today… But I can’t people would see. I don’t want them to know I’m going through hard times. I don’t want them to know these vines in my mind keep crippling me and suffocating the life out of me. I break free every now and again.. but I feel like giving up and stopping the fight against this, what feels like a loosing war. I may win some battles, but am I winning the war? Am I just making my mind pretend that I am okay? is this life something that I do want to live? and as I write all this I feel silly, of course it is. But you see, the thing is I met someone. someone who makes me feel all the warm and fuzzies inside, someone who I feel I can trust, yet, I feel as though since I met them, I have been fighting myself even harder. Am I ready for this? Am I ready to be with someone again after only 6 months of being divorced? 5 months of finding myself and being spiritually in-tuned? It’s not worth sacrificing myself, yet I find that I want o be with this person all the time. Is it making me lose what I have gained so much?

for the first time in months, I threw up today.. the stress was overwhelming for me. I had to do something… this agony that I have been going through is rough. I want to cut, I want to strave, I want to binge and purge… but is it because I find that easier than facing reality? What this reality is made me to believe is real. I know this world is not real, I know that I am living in a dream state only to fight this “reality” but why do I have to be tormented, isn’t though I have found the way it works enough for it to stop? or am I subjected to fulfilling whatever life I am needing o fulfill here.

With this new person, comes new trust. Am I ready to trust someone again? is my doubt the energy that’s creating these mistakes? Why do I feel everything has to be perfect all the time, when nothing I give energy to is perfect…. why do I feel like I need to be hospitalized again? How could I even afford it? I couldn’t… this pain and anguish has been plaguing my mind.

I am finding out more about myself. Love is growth, and it is painful.. but why do we have to have these other emotions compacted into what growth should be? what did I do in another wolrd to receive such pain? did I volunteer this life so some else didn’t have to suffer?

I want to be the change in the world I want to see, but it’s hard when I’m blinded by doubt and fear.

I want to be a silent fairy, I want to be love, and healing, and passion, and compassion and life… I want to give to the earth. I want to be the change in the world. I don’t want these feelings of hate, self rage and the negative. I will be positive, I will be positive. I will be positive. Can’t I be skinny and positive at the same time?