I want to destroy myself

I want to destroy
I want to
Destroy myself
I need to destroy
I always wondered
What lay behind
Why I needed to escape
Except that
All I needed
To escape from
Was the need
To destroy
As fast as
In any which way
I want to destroy myself
I need to
I need to hurt myself
For what?
I don’t know
Knives blades
I hate the stuff
The gooey icky stuff that ruins my clothes
I hate the stuff
I want to ask someone
To be my master
I want someone to hurt me
Punish me
Destroy me
I just want to
Destroy myself
And then I wonder
If not messing up my life
Is worth
Facing this
And wonder
If I don’t act on it
If I let it be
Let the need be
Let the pain of not acting
On a need
Will I ever know
And be able to
Deal with that, instead?


I’m in tears here. And I should journal. But this is something I want to write here.

I miss AH.

I’ve actually nothing else to say other than that. I miss AH. And there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it. I don’t know what the right thing even is. Someone asked me if I miss him, or if I miss speaking to him. I don’t miss speaking to him. I don’t miss the sessions. They were a waste of time. They weren’t a waste of time. For they were what the relationship was built on. They were the unifying factor, that bridged the gap of what I’d share. So they weren’t a waste of time. But yet they weren’t anything but hard. Speaking to someone when you can’t speak feels like a waste of time. Continue reading “AH”

Reblog: What depression feels like

I saw this article here written in response to the death of Anthony Bourdain. I loved the description it gave, because it’s just so real, so relatable, and can describe all of life, what living in my world or the world of so many people I love, even without depression, but with anything else, is like.

When you have depression it’s like it snows every day.

Some days it’s only a couple of inches. It’s a pain in the a**, but you still make it to work, the grocery store. Sure, maybe you skip the gym or your friend’s birthday party, but it IS still snowing and who knows how bad it might get tonight. Probably better to just head home. Continue reading “Reblog: What depression feels like”

Alien on Planet Earth

I wish I would have time to rewrite this.

I feel like an alien. Who has been dropped onto planet earth. Without earth’s manual.

‘If you want to be heard talk at pitch 10’. In alien world, known as AW henceforth, we talk at pitch 2. Pitch 10 is deafening. To speak in. To hear all the time.

‘If you want to fit in dress in the current styles, and dress near identical to those in your society’. Huh? Whatever happened to personal style and taste? We’re meant to be clones on PE (planet earth)? In AW we lived with diversity. There was a hodgepodge of styles and colours. People wore leaves sewn together. People wrapped strips of material around themselves. people wore black straight skirts. People wore colourful bohemian clothes. And all were one unit. Continue reading “Alien on Planet Earth”

Is this as good as life gets???

Life feels like a drag. It’s not that it’s not good. It’s amazing. It’s better than amazing. It’s awesome. And, everything else. Seriously, it is. I’m seeing things that I’ve not seen before. I’m asking for what I want – well, sometimes I am – and actually getting it. I’m able to ask for what I want, in a way that makes sense. I even emailed someone recently ‘Hi, can I ask you for advice re xyz’, and he called me and we discussed it. I was pretty clear about what was going on and why I couldn’t do anything about it. He offered to try and handle it for me and I told him I’d love him to. What’s so major about that is that I didn’t apologize for asking for help. I didn’t code my words and expect others to understand all I wasn’t saying. I just stated what I wanted. And got it. I asked people for encouragement to be able to send that email. I was scared to. I know, however much it’s just a belief, that I don’t deserve his help and that I’m driving him crazy (which I’m not). And to be in touch again when he called when I was unavailable. It’s not me. Any of it. I’m in touch more. With the world. With people. I can’t say with myself. I’m not in touch with myself. I’m not messing up. My fingertips are better than they were. Something I do unconsciously is to pick my fingertips. When I’m aware of doing it I usually stop. Since I stopped messing up I’ve been picking them more – well I know that because they’ve been sore. Now they hurt less than they did. Just, despite how amazing life is, it’s all a drag. I don’t know what I’m doing it for, or even why. I want to learn about boundaries. I want to learn what normal boundaries are. I don’t know if there’s a point to. I don’t know how to. Don’t know of a way too. In some ways I’ve more motivation than I ever did, in some ways ways less. I was supposed to have an appointment with my GP this evening. When I called the surgery they were closed (the lines are closed although it’s open late) so I’m not going to go in. I think. I think I’m not going to go in. I don’t even remember what time it was meant to be. And I just don’t care for it. As I said, life is a drag. I flip between being really on edge and really okay. Constantly. And I’m wondering if this is as good as it gets. Like, motivating myself to exercise – which I’m doing more than I was. I’ve begun – since yesterday – to track what I’m eating/drinking. I’m paying myself to brush my teeth as it’s something I’m not great at. I just bought new bedding and changed my bedding. I’m trying to sort out what’s going on with AH. It’s like, I’m doing all ‘good’ things. Just, it’s a drag. I don’t know how to put it into words differently. It’s just ‘doing’ to ‘do’. There’s no real anything there. No reason. No purpose. No meaning. And I know that there’s meaning to life, to the world. I’ve begun working through it. Paused where I’ve worked through until as I’m not ready to go further, although I actually have definitely been working it through in my mind, as I see how my relationship with the world, and the creation of it, has changed. I see the differences. So I know it’s moving. Life isn’t staying the same. Yet, it’s still just, is. Like get up, work, spend time with family, mess about online, or do something real, go to bed, sleep or don’t sleep, get up. Make changes. Which I am doing. Little ones. The little things that are the big things. And, I don’t know. I don’t know what I expect. I don’t want fireworks. I just want to enjoy living life. And then I wonder if it’s possible when I don’t know what ‘enjoy’ looks like. Not that I’m depressed. Although to be honest I wouldn’t know. I’ve just no frame of reference for any feelings. At all. Which means if you ask me when I ‘enjoyed’ something, I’m not able to answer you. AH asked me that once. I got so frustrated. Because I couldn’t answer. Not because there aren’t things that I think are fun. Boating is fun. Sitting in the sun is cool. Colouring is relaxing. Doing puzzles is focusing. Running made me smile. Do I – did I – enjoy any of it? I just don’t know. Could it be that it’s coz’ of the distance between me and the world? Some of it probably is, some of it isn’t. I’m not living with the same distance. I’m not observing the world anymore. I’m part of it. Just, a weird part of it. There’s still often a distance there. Just not the same kind of distance there was. I used to tune out constantly. I don’t remember when the last time I just switched off from life was. I’m just asking myself now if this is as good as it gets, if I’m a fool to hope for me. If I’m crazy to dream of living a life I love when I don’t know what love feels or looks like. If I’m strange to hope for loving a life I live, when I’ve never done that. It’s not that things aren’t changing, for they are, sometimes in tiny minuscule invisible steps, and sometimes it seems like the steps are so major – which they can’t be, they just weren’t observable before. Is this all there is to life?? Just living through the days, doing what you’re meant to, making changes yeah, but it’s all, a drag. I don’t even know what I want to be different….

Does it get any better than this???

I’ve been rambling. I wonder how understandable this is to others. I wonder if I am making myself understood to the world more than I used to, or if it’s just my imagination. Any and all thoughts/suggestions would be appreciated.

Can I trust enough to give over control?

Control. Letting go. Trust. Can I let go? Can I take control? Can I trust? It’s a paradox. Control vs trust. For most people will say that the opposite of control is letting go. I think trust is the opposite of control. For in order to really let go of control, you have to trust. I was just listening to a 12 step call, and was thinking about it whilst listening (yeah, distracting myself from listening ;) ). The topic was step 3. Letting go. Giving your will and life over to a power beyond you. Some of it I have no issue with. Some of it, well, I’m not so sure about…… Continue reading “Can I trust enough to give over control?”

Reblog: 50 reasons to live

Still unsure how to reblog.

I liked this post

The ones I liked best:

3. Another thing everyone says (and everyone says it because they’ve found it to be true, there’s very little chance you are the singular exception) is that they’ve been able to find beauty in their struggle. What began as a challenge because the impetus for finding their purpose. “Without Voldemort, Harry Potter is a very ordinary boy.”

6. Life is full of second chances. “Samuel Jackson struggled with alcoholism and drug addiction early on in his career. It was so detrimental to his ability to act and function, he was replaced in two different Broadway productions. He tried supporting himself by working as a camera stand-in for Bill Cosby on The Cosby Show and performing in random on-stage productions in New York, but he was never fully able to kick his addiction until he was 41. Literally the day after he left rehab, he started work on Spike Lee’s Jungle Fever. He was 46 when he was cast in Pulp Fiction.”

Continue reading “Reblog: 50 reasons to live”

I want to mess up the okayness

I want to destroy it. I want to self harm just to destroy it. Self harm rather than painkillers as it’s less destructive. It’s fun to be okay. I’m just tired of it. And so on edge and not sure what or why or how to handle any of it.

I feel like all I am doing is pushing off the inevitable.


I don’t know what I want

Image result for I don't know what I want

This quote is really true. It kinda defines what I’m thinking at the moment.

I don’t know what I want. I can’t make anything ‘better’ as, I don’t know what’s going on or what I want….