Every day is a fight

Fuck yeah


Like, most of those I’ve heard from other people, and the few rest realised by myself… It’s from ’76 but still!

This blog has had already 880 views! Time to celebrate, what?

That was all yesterday, Thursday. I was OK. There was bloodlust, but I had it under control. Then came evening, then came night, and all broke together. I got the same feelings as when I was 15. The same thoughts, only with details brought by age and learning. The same craving, the same blind lust. It’s never been like this, not in many years. I had forgotten how good it can be, and how it drains all my sanity.

I thought about the victims. Certain type, different from before, younger, weaker. And even those not weak, those who think they’re strong. Those who think they own the world. All those thoughts very real. I smell blood, I feel it’s warmth. I have used my knife to eat, and therefore I have had it in my hand extremely much last few days. I hold it in different positions and have found naturally without anybody showing me what’s the most stable way and how to put very much power behind the movement. My wrist is in no condition of doing anything though, but beginning of this week there was one day it was REALLY CLOSE. I was just a feather’s touch away from killing somebody.

It’s bad now. I feel awful, I’m down, I’m mad at myself for being lazy and useless.

Today was maybe a good day, until 8pm at least. I had lunch in school and found out we had no lessons after lunch. I went to buy mozzarella cheese and ice cream. I have no money. The rest will all be gone after paying rent.

Walk around, be free and roam, there’s always someone leaving alone…

I’m extreme fragile. Still. I guess I have been like this since the major breakdown in January. I have not had the chance, time or place to cope. I can’t do that at home for some reason. I can’t do that with the pressure of need to be in school 4 days a week and even Mondays I have to be on the road. I NEED THAT SECRET PLACE TO HIDE!!! Something like this:

A place to be alone in, be free, be unseen, let my thoughts roam free. When I get money again I have to buy some stuff: secondary scissors, vinyl handgloves, duct tape, another small fruit cutting knife, camo pattern parka to put over other clothing, possibly a snow camo coat, a secondary hammer, new winter shoes so I can use the old ones on bad weather and in forest.

Because it’s spring. The forest awakens. The beast in me awakens. They want to get a law here that makes planning a homicide punishable. There we go… When I was 15… It was possibly the most active violent fantasy period in my life. And not just fantasy, it went on to planning, and the plans got more realistic when I grew. This stayed away the time I was in a relationship. At least in the beginning, but after I realized we had nothing more in common and he liked his porn more than me – and I liked my fantasy world better than my miserable reality of being stuck physically and mentally, those thoughts started to appear again. It had nothing REAL on them though. Until I moved out and came here on my own to start a new life. Since I live here it’s gotten worse. A LOT worse. I have extensive aggressive periods and I can’t always hide what’s inside my head.

Well, I have never really been interested in hiding anything. I like to show off, I like to scare people, and I like their frustration when they realize they are totally powerless. I feel like a god when I tell somebody about these things. I love to control people.

This is how I see myself most of the time. So it kind of strucks me with doubt when I hear people call me nice, friendly, polite. When I talk with people I’m like that. I avoid fighting as far as possible. But my friendly mood can change extremely fast if I’m being annoyed enough or if somebody I’m talking to doesn’t understand what I’m trying to explain. I get frustrated fairly easily, and start to push the other person to make a decision, and might get aggressive doing that. If there’s a group of people who can’t decide where to go next I feel like I must take lead. Like, often with my ex and my parents all together. Mum is undecisive, dad wants something but starts playing the martyr immediately if someone else comes with another idea, my ex get’s annoyed but tries to stay calm when my parents hassle, and I might explode within minutes if they won’t follow my lead and keep walking in circles discussing the same old shit thousand times. If I’m alone with either parent it’s natural I take the lead and show I’m stronger than them.

And that image is in total conflict with the weak and sick person who sits in snow and cries and wants to die because wasn’t taken into hospital when she needed it the most. And that’s how it is right now too. The strong me is gone. I fell into this shithole within minutes. Being unstable, mentally fragile and aggressive at the same time is not very nice compilation. I tell people I’m OK but when I go home I fall.

People say I must get my mind in order before anything else. I don’t need to do diet before I’m stable enough for that. But the fact is that I’ll never be stable in my life. I will have long periods of stability, but I will fall back down after a while, I will fall deep, then I’ll rise again, up to the aggressivity, I will go through these thoughts of self-harm and killing others again and again. It’s an endless circle of problems.

And like often, right now I don’t care about myself. I don’t care the harm my body might get. I don’t care if the wounds need months to heal because of my poor health. I don’t mind getting new scars. Sometimes I wish I could live in an own house somewhere in a lonely place. Alone in the middle of the forest. Have shooting range on my backyard. Have a nice basement with working place and a separated two-room construction for keeping victims in and torturing them. Have a nice car to transport the bodies far away from home. Be physically strong enough to carry them. Live a double life, similar like right now but have real freedom. Sometimes I wish I could move out of this country to some other place, some place no-one knows me in, where I can disappear and live like I want and do what I want. Have a chance.

There are other wishes too. I’d love to have a nice life with a good man, a normal life with someone who understands me. With cats and dogs and a small garden, in a country we both like and which likes us. Sounds like utopia… :/ I would like to have a job I like and be able to save money for travelling the world, and do so with people I like and who are easy to travel with. I would like to have friends in other countries and be able to visit them and have fun with them. I would like to learn new things and be able to fulfill some of my long time dreams. Be independent, be strong, have good karma.

My best friend came online and I will just get me something to eat and have a nice talk with him. I’m so lucky. He saved me. He makes me feel better so I will hopefully lose the need to hurt myself again. Thank you for being there, and thank you people who read this and support me despite those insane things I write. I just hope you see it’s not all what I am. Bipolarity is like this. Angel and devil inside the same mind.

No Responses to “Fuck yeah”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: