Have you learned how to suffer yet

One hit, two hit, three,
my bloody lip is all you see.
Four hit, Five hit, six hit, Hi,
am I still pretty when I smile?

Well, have you learned how to suffer yet,
how to enjoy all the pain and be without regret,
Use the blood as fuel to nurture the fire,
make it so pain is all you desire.

Because this world is  unforgiving,
Sinning is the only way of living,
And if you dare to have a good heart,
this world will absolutely rip you apart.



Use your blood to shine your shoes because theyll be upset if you dont look your best. 

friends with famous people

Sometimes I wonder about famous people.
How do they get friends? Everyone around them must want so much from them and they are just humans trying to exist in this world. I hope they have genuine friendships.
I would be their friend. But then again no. Because humans are difficult.
But I would like to try to be their friend. A couple conversations without being seen as a fan, as an equal. Just a friendly chat with no predjudice.
I would make the best sarcastic celebrity friend though. Just sending them memes about them all the time while also being super supportive and always having cookies and their favourite chips at home so they can have some when theyre in the neighbourhood. I would insult them to their face while we both can't breath because of a joke someone said, they would retaliate with their Instagram Follower count and I would make a scene, pretending to be upset that they dont share their clout with me. We would have a good laugh and continue watching the netflix series.
It just you know.
Maybe would be fun. 

I am worried

I am worried. 

I am worried about money. I dont have enough. Not to sometimes order out when I dont feel like cooking, but also not to buy myself something new if a thing breaks. My mouse is broken. It's movement is slowing down more and more and while I can still adjust the Speed on the Computer to counterbalance it, this is only a temporary solution and there is only so far the speed can go. 

I am worried about my mental health. I pretend that I am fine most of the time and I dont have any really bad episodes since Im still doing quite a lot of work (a lot of uni online lectures and some tasks), but i know it soon wont be enough. Soon those couple of hours of work, 8 hours of lectures per week plus some time with other tasks wont be enough. I already feel it slipping away, feeling like no matter how much I do I am never enough. How I want to continue for another hour and another and when I inevitably give up I feel like a failure. Even now Im watching a lecture while writing this and I missed a couple minutes. 

I am worried about my selfharm. I would love to start cutting again. I kind of already have, though its well hidden. And I know how quickly I would escalate. The only thing holding me back right now is that my boyfriend would be upset. Nothing else. Scary, innit. 

I am worried about my cats. I never can really read if they are happy. One moment I feel like they love me, when Poro massages my chests in the morning or when Ichi is on my lap, eyes closed and somewhat cuddled into my arms. But then they shout again, or they leave to quickly. They hide on the bed or move somewhat weird. And I start to worry. Apart from that I am constantly worried that they might be sick. I would just keep getting them checked because thats like 20 euros but travelling to the vet means taking a taxi (or causing great discomfort for the cats and me) which costs 50 euros if im lucky, sometimes even more. 

I am worried about my medication. While I have quite a lot of my sleeping/calming medication, my antidepressants are more or less empty. I have a couple of doses left to keep for really bad days, but besides that I am fucked. I tried to get some more, but ended up in a telephone chain. 

I am worried about my sleeping schedule. It is 8 am and I havent yet slept. I dont feel too tired, but I never do until its too late. I feel a slight cloud setting on my brain, but that is pleasant. I cant hate myself as much if I am slightly dazed. 

I am worried about what I eat. I am constantly reminded that whatever I cook, ill have to clean again. and While that wouldnt be too bad, if i want to eat something healthy i have problems with portion sizes and that i just dont have enough pots, not enough places on the stove. And the healthier the meal, the more different ingredients i need to prepare and the more ill need to clean afterwards. 

I am just worried and Id like to stop spending my time worrying, and would like to sometimes maybe live. 

Shameless

I had a dream today.
I was part of the Gallagher family, together with my sister. Im not sure if we were added, or replaced some parts of it, but I know that the older boys were still part of it. And we were a wonderful family. Holding together against the adults, surviving againist the odd. It was great.
I felt so at home, more than I have ever felt before.
We mastered school, family coming to visit and stress from school.
I think grandpa was sometimes pickung us up from school, and we were too many to fit in the car so I would play rock paper scissor with Ian, to decide who of us had to walk home.

In the end our mother got sick and we held together and the dream ended with me getting the script instruction that I would have to kill myself.

We also had a sea somewhere closeby and to escape the family we would swim to an island in the middle together, no matter how cold the water was.

I was happy and I got awoken by a doorbell. I dont know. 

hope

Its a very intimidating moment when your real life catches up on your mental status.



Its one thing when friends and family find out, they’re close. They might be mad, but it doesnt really have any consequences. Atleast for me it didnt. Although probably that is just my opinion, now looking back on it, 5 years later.

But when someone double your age comes up to you telling you that whatever you feel like your body is, your gender is, whoever you love, that it is okay and that everything will be alright, it gives me an abundance of hope. Someone who doesnt know you as a friend. He barely even knows your name, and still just wants to give you this message of peace and happiness.



My work colleague, an older guy, came up to me, asking me about my wig today and i mentioned in a side comment in the conversation we had about growing out my hair how I dont like how it makes me look female. And I suppose a lot of my previous behaviour with that and also the scars on my arm tell a very clear message of what my mental state is, without me actually mentioning it, so he tried to comfort me. Not even askin about me, I said that I go to therapy so that he shouldnt worry.

He said that he isnt worrying, he just wants to make sure that I feel comfortable and started telling about all his friends at the carnival an hours drive from here. How there are many who are Homosexual or dont feel right in their body and still they are loved.

How he himself had to go onto his journey for decades to find himself and be truly happy.



Its a very warm and comforting feeling to know that someone that already went through his journey is telling you that it is going to be allright. Not someone who is healthy, or still on their way, or on the way of giving up. Just a person, who had their journey, survived and lived to become happy.



Its the feeling that I hope that I give people when I talk to them about my journey.

Because I know what it feels like and how overwhelming it is. It always feels like its too much. But it is going to get better and someday, youll laugh at the challenges you faced today.



Everything is going to be okay.

past

The past catching up to you tastes like gray smoke, 

like ash, filling up my lungs once again when you decide to come into my life again. 

The past catching up to you tastes like red blood, 

metallic and so sweet, yet so forbidden. 

The past catching up to you tastes like clear wodka, 

burning away every feeling until I am numb. 

The past catching up to you tastes like cold coffee, 

brewed in the morning and untouched until late in the evening. 

The past catching up to you tastes so familiar, 

yet so wrong. 

colorless cloud

Don’t worry about me, I’m used to dealing with my shit, 

I say as i breathe deeply in. 

“Really?”, ask the shadows again. 

Death would be a fuckin relief. 

Dont worry about me, 

I say as a clutch my jaw, 

Dont worry about me, 

you believe as long as you dont see. 

How bad I sleep at night, 

horrible mares waking me up, 

drenched in Panic and sweat. 

Just to go back to bed. 

How bad I clench my jaw, 

every waking hour of the day, 

trying to keep that sweet smile up, 

while I myself keep giving up. 

How hopeless I am when I look at my life, 

how gray and useless, just sadness in excess. 

A small colorless cloud trying to fight, 

the oncoming storm that keeps out all light. 

It prepares for the fight to begin, 

tries to remember all the good old days when the rain sets in. 

Overwhelming wind and darkness rise, 

as the cloud meets its demise. 

Every day I fight, 

and yet everyday it seems I loose again. 

At trying to keep me from decayin. 

How many losses until I cant stand up anymore?