Invasions of the past.

The sound of glass breaking sends me into a near panic attack. I still expect to get hit or punched whenever something falls or breaks, even if no one is around. When does that fear and expectation of pain end?

I wake up to nightmares and have the most random flashbacks on the rare nights I can even get to sleep. ive been up for three days now. Its exhausting wanting desperately to sleep and becoming so exchausted your body just refuses to calm down enough for rest to overtake my weary soul.

I wonder how life would have been had Jeff been caught when I was younger. The therapist mentioned pressing charges against him. How? I've already been through the humiliation of finally confessing what happened and listening to him deny it and call me disturbed. I don't want that again. I have no proof it ever happened. No rape kit to fall back on. No real physical evidence. Just a random email exchange and my memories. I wonder if he still kept those photos and videos he took once upon a time?

I need a break from the storms raging inside my mind. I wish someone was here with me today. Even just to talk. But mostly so I won't be alone with nothing but my demons to keep my company. I'd rather not leave a body to be found at all. Its nearly impossible to commit suicide and then get rid of your own body after the fact. But I don't want to be found by my friends, by the police, or by anyone. I don't want to put someone I care about through that. The sweet release of death is becoming more tmepting with every passing day.

Touring the Tortured Mind

I hate mental illness. I've been depressed for years, but the more I try to get help to fix it the worse it seems to get, or maybe it's just me realizing how bad it actually is. Answering all the questions from the therapist and doctor is making me realize just how abnormal my thought patterns actually are. I don't like the lines of conversation they initiate.

I've never actually let people in like this before. Never had anyone around who actually hears the thoughts that wander through my head as I think them. Or just sees how deep it goes. When did I stop hiding it from everyone? Why did I suddenly start letting the darkness inside of me out for others to see? Is it the therapy, or is that what has to happen to allow for healing?

Between getting sick, the side effects of the meds, what can only be described as withdraw from the prozac and the host of other problems and stress I am literally a mess. It's never been this bad. I'm literally scared to take the medication due to the previous ones problems and now these new side effects of the new medication.

I get now why people go off their meds. They fuck you up, make you think the weirdest thoughts, and make you feel like a different person. Owning a home would fulfill one of the goals I had for my life. Maybe I can actually feel like I have a home instead of a space that I haunt. A place for me to belong and finally feel safe.....

Meh

This months been kinda a roller coaster. Between antidepressants and all the side effects I have not been feeling like myself.

Either i have no energy or motivation, or I'm flying so high I can't stay still. Sleep is still hard to come by. My appetite comes and goes at random, and I can't keep the thoughts that roam my head to myself anymore.

I don't know why they care so much about me.  But I'm glad they do. I feel safe when they are around. I just wish they didn't see how depressed I am, or how much I stuggle to even function anymore. I just want to space out or stay in bed all day.

I wish I wasn't so messed up. I'd love to be able to just relax and enjoy life. Not have these horrible thoughts roaming through my head all the time. No more reliving old tortures and memories.

images

Now I stand on a blackened plane
A flaming sword held in my hand
Dare I cut this silver thread?

The cold bite of steel caresses flesh
Pain erupts as the blade slashes through, drawing forth the river of rubies laying deep within.
A single drop turns into a flow. Now if we could just let go.

Health

I guess the effects of the prozac finally faded away. The static electric feeling in the back of my head is finally gone. The old familiar torments are making their rounds tonight. Its really hard to concentrate on anything anymore. My mind feels fractured. I'm so physically tired that staying awake is difficult, even for simple tasks. All my dreams are fleeting but vivid. I wake up shaking and frightened but can't remember why. I hate these nightmares and panic attacks.

Restless

I need a change. I'm tired feeling so worthless and upset all the time. I hate my job. It's just another brick wall I'm endlessly pounding my head against. No matter what I do it will never be good enough.

This is one of those nights when even my demons need a break. I should just stop torturing myself and try to go to sleep but I'm too restless. I think that therapist was right. She's not the right one to try and treat me. At least she was smart enough to recognize that fact.

Just a crack in this house of glass.

People in my life wish that I would open up and trust them by talking to them. That's one of the most difficult things to do. Hell, I go to a therapist who gets paid to listen to this type of shit and I still have trouble bringing myself to talk about my problems. Trusting someone else with the shit inside my head is so difficult. No one wants a tour through this tortured mind.

I've been so fucked up for so long I don't know any other way to be. This is my normal. I used to be able to handle it on my own, but its been getting more difficult with each passing year.

How do you tell your friends that you are depressed and suicidal, and been dealing with those issues your whole life? That you honestly feel like you'd be better off dead and the world wouldn't even notice your absence? No one wants to hear that I feel worthless and like I will never amount to anything. I've been staring so long into the void that I wave when it started gazing back at me. the shadow self where the blackest thoughts come from is always lurking in the back of my mind.

That's one of the biggest reasons why I don't make any long term plans in my life. I never think I'm going to be alive long enough to follow through with them. Hell I never planned to live this long. 30 was not an age I expected to obtain, and now I'm 33. Hard to believe.