The little Secrets that no one knows.

Giggling little rats running
Around inside my walls.

Penguin’s slap each other
Then dance a little dance.

Knock, Knock open up
The squirrels are coming in looking for a big nut.

Alive, growing, staring, listening,
Damn those plants hanging near the window.

Good cop, bad cop
I can’t tell a difference anymore.

Vigilant ducks embroiled in a revolution
Eyes, voices everywhere.

Peel the skin from my face
Because store bought cookies are cooked with coach roaches inside.

Going to sleep with a heart full of fear.

Wiping away the last little tear.

Cannot simply be willed or wished away.
My OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) is in full gear. Maybe it’s the bi-polar part of me that is on a high right now; making me feel like everything around me is so unsanitary, nasty, gross, to the point that I don’t want to touch anything unless it’s with gloved hands. Life-long disorder. That’s one of the reason I don’t want to be arrested, but I fear it will happen soon, and I just don’t think I can handle that right now. Constant thoughts about death. It will be just like the last time I went to jail...I have a panic attack, freak out, and the next thing I know I’m either getting the shit beat out of me by some officer or if I’m alone (even in jail) I will cut myself.

Antisocial behavior.

Honestly I don’t want to do that because I already have enough scars on my arms that its even gross for me to look at them. Jail brings on so much stress, anxiety, and panic feelings that I decided I just can’t deal with going back to jail.

Loss of contact with reality.
So all alone with my thoughts they drifted towards odd thinking and I begin to wonder, “If I hire a killer to kill myself, will I still be arrested for attempt murder if I’m caught by law enforcement?”

Inability to enjoy life.
I’m not really sure, but I know I’m not about to ask that question online. I think I’m just going to check around with a few people that I know and see if they know someone who would be willing to kill me.

Disorganized thinking.

Hallucinations.

I’m just too much of a fucking chicken shit to do it myself, and suicide by cop might not work either (they would probably just fucking miss), so maybe a professional might be able to get the job done.

Hearing Voices.

You’re so fucking stupid!! Nothing but a drain on society.

Not worth the two bullets I would have to use.

I’m a failure...
Failure to learn by experience
Failure to follow any life plan
Failure to conform to social norms.

I’m constantly having difficulties with authority figures. What is the point to living? I’m not really living. Everyone will be much better off without me.

Psychosis
Worthlessness, inappropriate quilt, helplessness
No energy.
Headaches, no relief.
Hearing voices.
Bizarre behavior.

I think I’ll spend next weekend drowning kittens.

McDeath

McDEATH
I went to McDonald's today, armed with an assault rifle and intending to kill 30 or 40 people. You didn't see me, because I look just like you.Why didn't I do it? Why didn't I explode through that room in a frenzy of McDeath, pop-pop-popping moms and dads and hot cherry pies?

Not because the man at the gun store sold me a clip that would hold only nine bullets. Reloading after nine people is as easy as after 30. For a person in my state of mind, who's really counting anyhow?And not because I caught a sudden glimpse of humanity, seeing all the mommies having lunch with their little darlings. Huh-uh. Not a chance.

I'll tell you why I turned around and went home, the rifle still wrapped in plastic bags in my trunk. I really will. In just a bit.First, let me take a minute to explain myself.

Let me tell who I am, and what it took to turn from an

Ordinary Person into a monster willing -- wanting even -- to kill other Ordinary Person.

Lots of 'em.

All the berserk killers who went wild one day, the postal workers, the unemployed laborers, the Viet Nam vets, the courtroom murderers, the restaurant homicidal maniacs -- were just Ordinary People one day.

Then they -- like me -- turned into

Something Else.

There was a time, you know, when we really were ordinary.

We picked up the newspaper, saw a horrible story about a mass shooting and shook our heads. But that was before.

Since then, look at all that has happened:

We've been put down, shouted down, jilted, deprived, ratted on, denied and set aside. The money's gone. The dog's gone. There is no happiness left.We just want to do away with ourselves.

So we stare at the bottom of an empty mug, and ponder life, and fate, and our own humanity. And we find that we have achieved nothing of note, no immortality, no deeds worthy even of the granite slab that will cover our last remains.

Whimpering, sniveling, we determine to go out with a bang.

For 15 minutes, we will be

Very Important.

In the time it takes to empty two or three clips, we will have impacted more people than we ever did in our entire miserable lives. Grown men will fear us, women will faint, and neighbors will give interviews to TV cameras.

We are cleansed of our weakness.

And for a little time, police radios and sirens and red lights will look just like on TV.

So I went to McDonald's today, armed with an assault rifle, wanting to kill people. I saw you there. Yes you, who now sit there smugly in front of your computer and don't care about me.

I opened the trunk, pulled back the plastic, and looked at the cold black steel

and hollow-pointed death.

From the pit of my stomach I wanted to kill everyone I could,

all those grandma types with the blue hair and the wretched kids who whined because they didn't get the right toy in their Happy Meal.

I looked around, and no one cared. This had all been so easy.

If they cared, I probably could not have purchased this gun, these bullets.

We had grown accustomed to mass shootings, I saw.

It was accepted, acceptable, a small price to pay for a freedom.

I knew already what would happen if I went through with it.

Somewhere in California a third-page story would cite a statistic, and in

Texas a commentator would be angry,

and in Florida it wouldn't even make the news.

And so even pop-pop-popping at McDonald's didn't matter anymore.

I guess, for the time being, I did something people did care about. I went home.

I cared -- momentarily.

But, even while you read this, sipping your drink and peering casually at this screen, somebody else is out there buying a gun -- and planning on taking you with them when they go.

Disconnected

Disconnected ...

I am looking
But I cannot see.
I am reaching out
But everything is beyond my grasp.
A series of sleepless nights.
Trying to connect myself together.
Made up of different images
Together with some of my ramblings.


Self Harm is something I’ve grown up with, in one form or another. Part of the problem is the shame and guilt that surrounds it. My scars are a permanent reminder. I'm trying to view them more positively - that they show that I’ve survived some very rough times.
I'm not there yet - but I don't want to hide anymore


Deep inside the heart is a place where my child
finds the love she never trusted to be real.
Within my heart my child is loved.
Within my heart my child is healed.
As the child is healed, so, also, is my heart.

I
THE SECRETS GOT TOLD. DID YOU KNOW THAT? BIG PEOPLE KNOW OUTSIDE WHO CAN HELP US NOW. EVERYBODY KNOWS WHY WE GOT SO SAD. IT WAS A SAD THING.


This is how it sometimes feels to be inside my head. There are voices that hate me, voices that think I’m stupid and voices that want me to die. They prey on my insecurities, my fears. It can feel like my head is an open invitation cocktail party - there's so much going on in there. Even my own thoughts seem to run at different speeds, different levels ... so that there's so much inside at the same time. It's hard to describe, to explain what it feels like. I just want the whole world to stop so that I could get off.


So much shame
Feeling insane
Disturbed
Nothing but a life drain
A sad damaged faulty brain.

Angel without wings that never learned to fly.
Is it my destiny to die?
I sit waiting for the air around me to quiet.
Questioning my existence,
My thoughts run in the distance.

They wonder, but never ask.
Don’t look behind my mask.
Defective, worthless.
Most days I wish I wasn’t born.
Feeling alone in a storm.

Intrusive, heinous mind suffer.
Vivid and impure, it can’t get any tougher.
Torture, and denial.
I’m garbage, nothing but a disgrace.
I want to fly away to another place.

Nobody knows what I’m holding back
It will be a surprise, a plan of attack.
No surrender, only resistance.
Even in death I don’t want to feel the sun upon my face,
So bury my body in a shady place.



To cut a long story short I stopped to think and broke down.

Cutting

Detachment of the mind eases the pain

For the past several days I have had a severe headache. I guess you really can’t call it a headache...it’s beyond that...more of a intense migraine. I’ve had migraines off and on since I was a teen....they come without warning, and no matter what I take for it, it only dulls the pain temporarily. I was prescribed Imtrex which worked after taking 4 to 5 over several hours, it would ease the pain enough that I could tolerate leaving the darkness of my room. But I ran out about a year ago and haven’t been to the doctor for more. So, today I’m dealing with very bright lights causing a sharp pain to shoot between my eyes, noises sounding like they are being amplified through a tube directly into my ears, and waves of nausea floating up and down, up and down though my intestinal track.

My only happy thought is that it should go away in another day or two. When I don’t have any (whoa...a shockwave just washed over me, making me dizzy as hell) prescription meds to take, the migraine will usually go away in about a week. Anyway, I hope that it does...okay enough at attempting to write...I need to go lay back down...head is pounding.

Supernatural Superstitions

When two people of the same name live in a house, ghosts stay away.

Ghosts hate new things. If you have a persistent ghost, hang something new over your door.

Say, “What in God’s name do you want?” when you first see a ghost, and you will know no fear.

A baby born near midnight will have the ability to see ghosts.

A ghost will come and knock on your wall when someone in the house is going to die.

Never strike at a ghost; never get mad at it. You will have very bad luck and the ghost will resent you and plague you for it.

Ghosts enjoy people singing and will listen.

Graveyards at night are lucky places if you stay quiet. Talk and you will be haunted for a week.

Christmas Eve is the favored time for ghosts to walk on earth.

When horses and other animals start acting strange, it’s because they see a ghost. Horses that snort at night are seeing a ghost.

Always settle an argument before you sleep, or ghosts will come and bother you.

If someone sees a ghost, look over their left shoulder and you’ll see the ghost. If you snip the hair off someone who is dreaming and put it under your pillow, you will have the same dreams.

Death Superstitions

Never carry an ax into the house; it means death.

Only carry a hoe through the same door of your house that you brought it in, or someone in the house will die.

If you miss a row while planting, or hear a crowing hen or rooster after dark, or see the wind blow out a candle, these things mean death.

Beware the sight of a white horse, a little while dog, or a long white goose.

If an owl comes into your room and sits at the foot of your bed, it’s as if an angel is sitting at your bedside, and it means that whoever lies in that bed shall die.

If three people look into a mirror at the same time, the youngest of the three will die.

Never let a swing stop on its own. Stop it yourself or someone close to you will die.

If a bird flies into your house, it’s a omen of death.

After someone dies, their picture will begin to fade.

Beware of the queen of spades, the death card.

If a dog howls while looking at the ground, it’s because he senses that death is very near.

Resistance is Futile

If every scar tells a story, run your fingers over my body and read my novel.

I think one of the hardest things about having depression, is not being able to tell the people that I am the closest to that I’m depressed or having suicidal thoughts. I can tell it to complete strangers online, but I can’t come right out and tell those around me that sometimes I just don’t feel okay.
Most of the time I hide those feelings during the day, it is only at night when I am completely alone that I allow my feelings to surface. Writing down my crazy thoughts is my way of releasing the stress in my life.
For the past almost 3 years, I feel I’ve given up. I injured my knees so bad that I have pain everyday, I don’t sleep very well, I developed diabetes, high blood pressure, and several other medical problems that I take medicine for. I rarely leave my house any more...if I do it is usually just to go to Wal-Mart, then it’s right back inside my house. I just don’t want to be a part of the world anymore.
They don’t want me in it...I don’t want to be a part of it.

Bat Joke

Two bats are going out for their midnight feed.

After an hour or so, one bat gets tired of looking and goes home with no blood.

Soon the other bat comes home with blood dripping from its mouth.

The first bat says enviously, "Where did you get all that blood from?"

The second bat replies, "Follow me. I’ll show you."

After awhile the second bat leads them to a cave. He says, "You see that wall over there?"

The hungry bat excitedly says, "Yes!"

Other bat says, "I didn't."

Suicide by Cop

AND JUST SO HE KNOWS FOR A WHILE I WASN'T ALIVE

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Suicide by Cop

Be my bottle of sleeping pills,
The carbon monoxide,
Or a gun in my hand.
Be my bridge I jump from.
It is a simple phrase,
All too inclusive.
Provide me one final service.
I leave you no other choice.
Frequently depression and rage as well.
Be my executioner.
The ultimate decision is up to you.
Who better than a police officer.
I am the bad guy. The perpetrator.
Pushed over the edge.
Everyday I feel dead.
It won’t be your fault.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Every person has one secret that will break your heart.

Out of Service

Living My Life in a Slow Hell

Writing for me has become a lifeline--an escape into an imaginary world where hurts are only fictional and there are happy endings.

When I was a little girl, I would quite often create a make-believe family in a make-believe world. This family and world were perfect, so at 8 years old, I found myself spending hours lost in my own private world. There was no fighting, no brothers in the hospital, no hostile words spoken by others, I had all the things I needed, and even some things that I just wanted.

My imaginary family made me feel like someone cared about me; Mom dressed me beautiful pink laced dresses, and even let me wear some of her make-up. My Dad didn’t touch me in ways that I didn’t want to be touched, and being hugged actually felt good. At school, I wasn’t made fun of, instead people greeted me with a smile every morning.

The weather was always the right temperature and fragrant lilac flowers grew everywhere. I never saw anything that could give me nightmares, and in my dreams I felt blissfully happy and content. My life was filled with laughter , and every story I read had a happy ending.

It was so unlike my real life that I would spend hours alone, sipping ‘tea’ kool-aid with my dolls, and talking to myself about the things that I someday wanted to do....I had dreams then.

In my mind, I would fly away to places that I loved.

Sometimes I want to go back to being that little 8 year old girl, just so I can go back to imaginary land where everything is perfect.

Concrete Angel

It tastes like suicide

I’m trying my best to pull the chair up to the desk and write here just so I don’t lie in bed all day staring at the ceiling.

My brain is becoming incredibly noisy again. I don’t feel I can even properly articulate myself today as I can’t make sense of what is going on.

Recently the noise has been turned up again. It’s almost white noise; a rush of thoughts that flood in and swirl around. I have trouble coping when my mind is like this; I can’t get my thoughts straight and it makes it difficult to sleep or hold a conversation. It’s distracting and depressing. Depressing because the thoughts are almost wholly negative, but so very fast. Distracting because I can’t focus on the same thing for more than a few seconds before my mind takes me elsewhere.

What is also bothering and scaring me are “intrusive thoughts”- not the type you get with OCD. This is something I’ve lived with for years but they still frighten me and make me incredibly anxious and uncomfortable. They come from absolutely nowhere, quite suddenly and I feel like I don’t have control over them. I don’t want them and the things that I think of are things I do not want to do or see. I get images, like flashbacks, that strike out from the mess. Horrible things, like rotting images of my father, of myself, violent thoughts, thoughts of suicide, images of death and dying and decay. There are words and phrases too that stick in my mind and start skipping like a faulty record. I find it so hard to get past it that I either start writing, saying or forcefully thinking of something else. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t and drives me to frustration. It happens when I’m trying to sleep too so I have to talk myself down from complete panic.

When I’m out and about, if someone is near me, I have this thought that they’re going to hurt me, so I get panicked and have to get away, somewhere lonely and safe. I get convinced that they have a knife or gun or are looking at me oddly. I freeze and then begin to get anxious. And run off, or walk quickly away.

These thoughts have been keeping me awake recently and making me burst into tears. Sometimes I wish I had a dial I could use to turn down the volume.


When I die and my life flashes before me, I wonder if it will be worth watching.
Suicide---Don’t do it...Why make all your enemies happy?

Life Quotes

If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun.

My great concern is not whether you have failed, but whether you are content with your failure.

You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it.

Robin Williams

Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much.

Tears are the safety valve of the heart when too much pressure is laid on it.

I feel my whole life is some kind of dream, and I sometimes wonder whose it is and if they are enjoying it...TS

Killing Myself

I think I finally figured it all out...I’m locked up in a prison or mental hospital and the people in charge are punishing me by making me live this life.

Only thought about killing myself a half-dozen times or so today, and never really seriously. Sad, but that constitutes a pretty good, successful day for a lot of people like me. I find myself feeling hopeless, yet feeling strangely content just being alone. Actually I don’t really feel hopeless so much as I have grimly accepted my fate. Whether this is true or merely delusional thinking resulting from depression…time will tell. Sometimes I think it is a little of both.

My moods cycle rapidly, and it never ceases to amaze me how fast, and how completely, my moods can change throughout the day. I can go from being very agitated with suicidal ideation, to having a calm, peaceful time of reflection.

Nature really is a calming force for me. It always has been. Ever since childhood, I would escape to the woods to find some peace of mind. Aside from the prospect of getting bitten by a snake, or becoming forever lost, neither of which has happened to me…yet… the outdoors has always been soothing to my soul. Once again, it is no cure, but it is a tonic, that makes life a lot more tolerable…and sometimes even quite enjoyable.

During periods of agitation today, I experienced a familiar phenomenon…sort of a persistence of negative thought and emotion. Like if I have a negative interaction with someone, no matter how slight… I just can’t let it go…it lingers in my mind and plays itself over and over. I relive it again and again, feeling the same anger, fear, or annoyance that I did in the original experience. This also happens with things that happened years or even decades ago, too. It is like I never forget any negative, painful thing that happens to me. Sometimes, embarrassing, shameful memories come up, and my whole body convulses and tenses for a moment in response…as if I am trying to shake it off. Often I grimace and clench my teeth. I hide it pretty well in public, but sometimes I can’t.

Just some of the really annoying and fucked up shit I go through on a daily basis. Used to it now…but it doesn’t make it any more pleasant.

I have been blogging for a couple of years now, and I see how effective it is for charting ones moods and mood cycles. I have always resisted charting my moods, because I just didn’t really want to know. Somebody said that “an unexamined life isn’t worth living.” But some things are better just left in the dark…at least until we are good and ready to deal with them.

I took a Clonazepam today, which I have not done for a long time. I rarely take any kind of tranquilizer or anti-psychotic, but it probably wouldn’t hurt if I utilized that tool a little more than I do. I have tried Zyprexa which made me feel like a zombie with Ball-bearings for eyes, geodon which made me fall asleep anywhere, anytime, risperadal which worked great but destroyed any and all sexual desire, and seroquel, which was the best med I ever took, at least in small doses, but I had a muscle spasm in my chest so painful that I passed out and ended up in the hospital. And the list goes on and on. I am kind of freaked out about meds in general. I am probably way under-medicated, but I have a tenuous balance, and a tenuous balance is better than things getting worse with the wrong medication(s). I know this may sound irresponsible, and maybe it is, but like I have said in previous posts…I became a human guinea pig for about eight years, and that was enough for me. I have thought about looking into some newer type of pills again, but fear of the side effects...such as gaining more weight, keeps me away from the drug store. I just don’t know if I have the energy, faith, and confidence in meds right now to undergo that whole process of trying a new med.