All the Feels

The voices repeat themselves but not as rapidly.

They bring me back to the past and try to measure how I feel about it, how I respond to my memories in the present.

It’s a cycle of pain.

Remembering, loving, quieting or killing my emotions-

Over and over and over and over and over and over again and again and again and again and again.

Did I mention the manga “Soul Eater” by Atsushi Ohkubo?

In that manga, the final “power up” the main characters get is accepting “insanity.”

That’s how I feel right now.

I’ve accepted that I’m probably going to be or going to be seen as “crazy” for the rest of my life, but I think I’ll be fine as long as I don’t try to hurt anyone.

As long as I don’t try to find or talk to you.

As long as I don’t go and try to get “revenge” against every voice in my head that I recognize.

I think that’s the path I need to be on, or at least it’s the one I’ve followed until now and it’s kept me out of trouble.

I have a job.

I have responsibilities.

The world won’t wait for me just because I ain’t got my head screwed on tight enough.

Nope!

Time stops for no one.

No Worries

Voices in my head swing wildly back and forth between telling me I’m going to get what I want (a relationship with you) and that you’ll never see me again ever for the rest of our lives.

Frankly, I can’t buy into either of these camps.

Something is bound to happen, even if that something is just me, typing out the nonsense in my mind, into the void.

It sounds as if there are so many moving parts, so many people that are “in on it” that I’m personally not aware of on your end.

There’s always “someone else” that does this heinous thing being beamed into my brain, some other star crossed lover wrapped into the confusion of impersonation and personal perception.

Like I said before this, a long time ago now me thinks: I type so I don’t dwell on these thoughts and hearings longer than is necessary.

I’m hoping things work out in the end but I have no idea what thing it is that needs to be worked out.

Adios amiga.

1001 Albums

https://1001albumsgenerator.com

A voice in my head was screaming that they loved me as I listened to this music I’ve never heard before.

They also said “I ate semen every day since I was 8”

This is clearly someone’s story of sexual abuse, and the voices, other voices not this one, say it’s the voice of O.Wall.

I remember that time in New York, in the park, that something happened to her. That she was gang raped by her brother and his associates.

I felt and thought those things but I have no way to prove it. And you with that action of the “noose” like you’d hang yourself, and you told me it was nothing.

She only loves me because I’m the opposite of the Daniel Fairclough she’s face to face with (ABWJr)

But honestly I still don’t understand why I was dragged into any of this to begin with…

Why I don't mind: I got mines

As per my last post, if you were that fast and loose, I got my portion of you, and now you’re off somewhere else in the wild.

I think all my life I wanted to live in a community where I would “fuck for fun” and in all honesty I probably would’ve had a kid early if those were the cards life dealt me, but that didn’t happen.

I’m not ashamed of my sexuality, or of sex and the things that come with it. I’m fairly open, there are somethings I won’t do and the rest is fair game.

My issue is these voices.

If they were gone and you were/are as fast and loose as they describe you to be, you should know I’d just be trying to keep up.

That was basically my life before these voices stopped me in my tracks.

It’s somewhere I hope I can get back to as long as I loose weight, but for what its worth it seems like nothing is predetermined.

There is no hand of fate deciding my life, and if the voices give any clue to that divine intervention I have yet to see the proof of it.

Save the dopplegangers that don’t speak to me.

Ah.

Promiscuity VS Coercion

Voices in my head keep chattering about you and your intercourse with people at the hostel.

Which one, I don’t know.

How often, they say a guy every night.

But also, if they stole or were holding y our only means of communication hostage, thats coercion, and not necessarily consent.

That’s literally rape.

And even if you were just that promiscuous, you know I don’t mind.

P.S.

And then you throw in the “Viking Concept of Revenge” and here you are, in my head, in some courtroom talking about the damages done to one another with this radio technology or something.

I mean it absolutely makes sense to get revenge for shame or honor.

Maybe in the moment of the coercion you felt shame.

Victorias Secret

I don’t understand why the voices have to tell me these things when they involve everyone else?

This is like an older woman’s secrets: this is the stories from an adult woman’s younger years that she doesn’t tell anyone because it might make them think differently of her.

This is rampage in my mind and the only thing that is preventing me from being even more emotional is fucking nihilism.

She fucked me.

She fucked someone else.

She won’t fuck me.

She’s the town bike somewhere else.

Goodness gracious.

Good riddance.

Nothing like me

Voices said as I took a dump scrolling on Instagram that “[your name] was nothing like you she was like ABWJr” and they said it quickly and I couldnt tell if they said “that is the opposite”

I know I’ve been rapid firing these post in the last few minutes but I guess it’s a bad time for me and the voices right now as I get ready for bed.

Someone else to love

Voices keep saying or talking about someone else you fucked at one hostel or another.

That ABWJr wants to know about these men.

I don’t, but I keep hearing this shit.

I know there’s nothing I can do about it now, I’m not gonna to delude myself anymore than I already am.

You were there (or at least I informed you) of the terrible pain and the maddening moment when I had that realization.

Time machines aren’t real and even if they were, everything from back then was so, so different.

Is it a crime to want this increased dose of medication to work faster?

A toast to you!

I drink now.

I'm You, You're Me

Voices in my head just said that I’m “may own version of you” insert your name where you see it fit.

What the fuck does that mean?

All day they were going on about how much you love me and that I’m special and coming down the the last few minutes of my work day they pull this plot twist.

I can go on loving myself well enough but I KNOW I’m not you, especially if you’re the person in my hallucinations that willingly defects in public whenever someone brings up how you feel about me so you can say with confidence that I’m ‘the shit.”

THAT HAS BEEN ROLLING AROUND MY NOGGIN FOR SO LONG AND I DID NOT HAVE THE WORDS FOR IT UNTIL NOW.

My mind is a hot gross mess of abuse and violence and I KNOW I don’t think of these things regularly I KNOW who the fuck I am so WHERE THE FUCK DOES THE COME FROM AND WHAT THE FUCK DOES IT HAVE TO DO WITH YOU!?

FUCK.

Giving Up VS Growing Up

Maybe I am building a tolerance to my medication. I know I have to wait a while for the effect to kick in but I want to escape these voices, these thoughts sooner, rather than later.

Let me tell you about some of them, not that you care:

I have this one fantastical delusion that you have an apartment or a home somewhere in Boston, and when the time is right you’ll contact me to come visit you or live with you and we start over again.

I know that’s not rooted in reality but it’s a delusion I come back to over and over again. I can’t shake it, but Im not giving into it either. It just exists in the periphery of my mind most days, when the voices are acting up.

And just now the voices have caught wind that you’ve had a child, although I knew that when I was arrested, however, the voices also say you don’t, and that it’s someone else’s child and when I think back to that picture of you and Maren and the other girls on the balcony I thought you looked good for someone that had a kid.

But I don’t know anything, and I know that I don’t know anything so I choose not to believe the voices. I’ve always chosen that honestly, except during certain moments I can recall, but its tiresome being worn down by hallucinations, hallucinations that tell me about the things I want or want to hear, and having to constantly deny that because it doesn’t actually exist in reality.

It’s not as painful, but my body still reacts to the thought of you.

And I don’t mean to be a home wrecker, to destroy your family or anything, and maybe you love that child with the same passion or more than I love you. They say child birth changes a woman's brain physically, so it could be completely over for me and you… “could be…” why can’t I just say that it is completely over for me and you.

I know why, because of media, because of history, because of life, because I know the lengths I would go to personally to make it work and it feels like some little part of me that keeps holding out hope, keeps living in the delusions keeps on loving you can just override my logical mind and take complete control what the fuck.

If I ever love someone this much again or more I need to make sure they love me back in the same way.

I hate this.

Overnight Shift so Obviously Voices

I’m getting messages from the ads on Instagram now.

They say I’m not a better artist than I currently am because I didn’t become a “neet.”

I had the opportunity, I think, but I chose being around people more than sitting and drawing all day.

I don’t know if it helped or hurt me, well I have voices now, but that’s not the point:

The voices said that like you already know or have that information.

Have you reached enlightenment?

Can you show me how/what you know?

I recall when you told me you knew how the Pirate Bay works, and I scoffed and said no you didn’t.

It’s been years since then, and even more time that we haven’t spoken a standard conversation to each other, who knows what you’ve filled that precious mind with.

You were never dumb in my opinion.

But I suppose my opinion ain’t really important to you nowadays.

20mg Olanzapine

Up 5mg from 15.

I’m worried it’ll do something awful to my body, but I think the maximum dose is 50.

I just want the voices to go away. I want to stop hearing about you, then I want to stop thinking about you.

You’ve moved on, started a family, living life to the best you may know how, or the opposite is true, and either way you don’t want me to be a part of any of it.

So why did God or the Universe see if fair to grant you freedom from me but not me freedom from you? Or why did my freedom come with a time limit?

Bullshit.

But it’s not like I’m some pathetic wretch sitting on my hands and crying about it.

If I have to go to the maximum dose for these meds I will.

I don’t like thinking about it but I also have a life to maintain, don’t I?

Getting Worse

I think I wrote that my psychosis is getting worse. If I didn’t write that I’m writing it now.

I told that to my psychiatrist earlier in the morning yesterday and she upped the dosage of my medication.

I’m worried I’ll just keep building a tolerance to this crap but there’s seemingly nothing else I can do.

I don’t think I’ll go back to “harassing” you, I’ve got this blog shit pretty locked in, but I saw a woman that looked like you after work today and she walked right by me with her head turn down to the ground.

If you wanted to talk to me, you would.

That’s what I tell myself.

I’m blocked on your end, you aren’t blocked on mine.

But I want some relief.

I don’t want some woman that looks like you so I can play pretend, I’d just like to talk again.

Maybe more.

Maybe less.

What a mess.

YOU

Voices say you already “gave your life” for blah blah blah

And that you’ve been over on your side of the world “getting screwed”

All word play, puns for things I can only imagine.

If this is all set in stone then why do they keep talking about you? What do they expect me to do?

All morning

My psychosis, despite me taking my meds, seems to be getting worse.

All morning I’ve been hearing about your promiscuity.

It’s making me feel sick to my stomach.

I feel like I shouldn’t feel anything, yet here I am, none the wiser.

Standstill

In my mind it sounds as if they’re forcing you to relieve traumatic moments of your life and that makes you staunchly double down on being a wretch.

It’s not working for either side, but you’re just fine with the way things are, in fact, I believe you could even go as far as to make things worse, couldn’t you?

Of course, this is me reacting to madness, and not necessarily reality.

I don’t even know what’s real.

I still have a job though lmao

Stadium Status

Where I go from here, God only knows.

The voices in my head are talking about a great many things today.

How I’ve outshined people.

When another girlfriend of mine tossed my salad.

And you, of course, as per usual.

Right now they’re barging up when you said you’d “never want to be with a celebrity”

and for the last few days the voices have been going on and on about how I’m their “inspiration”

That I have “one uped” or “outdone” my peers…

That apparently, makes me the talk of the town.

And you’d never want to be with the talk of the town, and I’m not here to try to convince you or attempt to force you.

But I wonder why.

My mind races back to conversations about “self-control” and being a “strong” person, and my mind plunges into this idea that if you were as well known as I am, and you knew my peers, you’d just cheat on me, constantly, with them.

And you wonder why I thought you would’ve done porn.

But that’s even more delusional than I already am. (Which is pretty fucking delusional, mind you.)

And then I go and say, thats stupid, but I know that Compulsive Sexual Behavior happens in adults that were abused as children so if it’s that then were you abused as a child and how often?

I just want this shit to make sense.