The pale angel, whispering and angular, is at the center of a fragmented dream world. His vocal poetry is haunting and lithe – winding light around his stairstep-spine. Call him “Beautiful One.” Call him “Best Friend.” Call him “You-Take-My-Breath-Away.” The only instrument he requires is freedom, the type that moves with dissonant waves – all lyricism and vigor, like a breakdown made for dreamers. But, I don’t think he saw me. I don’t think he noticed my desperation for something real, for someone to touch my ribcage-elbows-collarbone and affirm my existence. Can I help but to want to be danced upside down, to spin around like youthful romance, to jump and be okay? I look into my bathroom mirror, striped down bare and ready to take my shower. It’s 3:00am but I have nowhere to be tomorrow, or the next day or the next.
I have pushed through bodies to get to you, pushed through late nights crying over the wrong people, through meaningless, thoughtless sex, and through hopes that have always led to despair. I was mechanical. I was mostly drunk. I was dead.
I though it was normal to cry every night, to let things happen to your body – unwanted touches, and painful caresses ending in loss of myself, moment by moment, piece by piece. It does not get better than this, I told myself endlessly. I made this bed. I deserve this bedding.
mom’s the only one who cares about me, and sometimes she doesn’t understand, know or feel my pain, my loss of control, my self disdain
You showed up at the brutal parting, my forced removal from The All Knowing One, a painful distancing. I cut my arms so deep while I was on the phone with him after he said – it’s done, don’t contact me anymore, you’re poison. I cut them so hard, so emotionally. Blood dripped down my arms, blood pooled on the carpet, my mother screamed and screamed until I couldn’t hear her anymore. The world blurred as my fragile network of lies and truths, or lies that became truths, burned in my heart. Dad got the gauze. My younger brother fell silent. He’s been silent a long time now.
And in the wake of the waves of pain, deep from the ashes of my life, as I tried and struggled with purpose and loneliness. I found you. I fucking found you online. I /saw/ you. I knew.
I don’t want to say you fixed me, because I had a hand in that too. I don’t want to say you destroyed me, because I loved heroin just as much. We have had our share of tough times, just like a plethora of good. I didn’t want to believe we couldn’t be together without drugs, so I mostly didn’t… and we got sober, we got closer, we got healed and we now have each other to thank for it, to save ourselves from the misery of returning to the families we wronged, our lives we ruined, and the pain of our emotions returning to us.
I love your humor, I love your scent, I love the way you are so honest with me, never leading me on or leading me astray. You love me for me, for who I am not who I want to be or worse, who I think I am. You don’t care if my hair is knotted, I just woke up or I am throwing a tantrum because I’m sleepy and can’t find my phone and think I’m going crazy because I checked there, no, I /checked over there/ do. not. Oh ok it was over there? Thanks.
We are not the same, I learned that from you. We don’t have to be the exact same person, that’s ok. We don’t have to be in the same room, which is code for: I feel secure you won’t leave me. I can sleep without you immediately dropping everything and going to sleep too. I had to learn that also. You’ve been a great teacher. You’ve been a better best friend.
I can honestly say I /know/ you, which is almost as good as loving you. I understand, so do you. So when there’s a day we don’t kiss or sit next each other all day or I go for a walk without you, I don’t feel any less loved, any less special, in love or cared about. It’s quite the gift you gave me.
You didn’t steal my heart, you mended it and let me hang on to it for a while. The fact that you have it now? It’s because I decided you were worthy. It was mine to give. It’s mine to take back if I so choose.
Nevertheless, it’s yours now, and I love you so much.
Thank you, with all the love of my being,
To you, my Beautiful One
“Why can’t you want me like the other boys do?
They stare at me while I stare at you
Why can’t I keep you safe as my own?
One moment I have you the next you are gone”
I really like Daniil, and to follow up from the last entry, I told Mario that it wasn’t going to work and he told me to have a good fucking life but I didn’t respond. I just deleted his number and moved on. He meant nothing to me. Not like Daniil. Daniil doesn’t want a girlfriend or anything. He says we’re just friends but we have sex regularly, see each other nearly everyday, talk on the phone and share feelings and secrets. I don’t know what to think. I’m so confused. One minute he tells me it’s probably not going to work out and the next he tells me we have a shot. Is it a game? Is this just a fucking game? and how do I win? I have a lot of feelings for him.
My thyroid is serious. I went to the endocrinologist and she said it was probably Graves Disease but the bloodwork I had for her neither confirmed nor denied it so I have to go to the hospital and get a catscan. Only mom’s been giving me fish oil as a supplement and that a no no for this test so I have to wait three weeks before I can get the test. Which means three more weeks before I can even get medicated. It could even be cancer. I mean, I smoke so I don’t really know. It could be a node on the thyroid too which means surgery on my throat. FUCK. Daniil said he would be there for me, which was sweet and much appreciated. I really need someone there to talk to.
Real life is no fairy tale and It’s been kicking my ass. I want everything to work out but no. I saw my ex last week twice. It was interesting. He grew a Charles Manson beard and doesn’t leave his bed. I still use him for goodnight calls. But last night, he didn’t respond and didn’t text me this morning. He says he cares but I doubt it. He has an internet girlfriend and whatever. I didn’t ask him to ditch her for me because I know I can’t give all of myself to him again. He’s just not worth it and saying that really fucking hurts but I had to say it. I have to let go.
I’ve been feeling crazy lately. I’ve been smoking pot and drinking a lot more. I hear voices that tell me to bang my wrists into furniture, cut myself, break bones, jump out windows, burn myself with my lighter, etc. I can’t tell anyone because I want to be able to go out and have fun. But it is a constant headache – it’s just one voice too. It’s like a young girl. I don’t even know. Because of the thyroid hyperfunctioning my medication isn’t as effective. I shake, am never hungry, go to the bathroom like a million times a day, can’t sit still, my hair falls out in clumps, my heart is too fast, so is my pulse.
I’m literally a mess.
“I stared taking care of myself today, but then I stopped ’cause I don’t care”
I had two dates yesterday, awkwardly. I hung out with this guy named mario for a while in the afternoon and with daniiel at night. Mario is tall – he’s like 6’4 – which is totally ridiculous… He was a gentlemen though – too bad I go for people who don’t treat me well. Daniiel tells me that you have to be an asshole to get a girl, and he’s doing a good job of it. He tells me not to fall for him or overthink things but whatever – sometimes you have to take risks in order to fly. But right now, i have to stay on the ground. Mom was pissed at me because i lied to her about where i was going and for asking to sleep over rachael’s house (even though I’d really be going over to Daniiel’s house/apartment). But WHATEVER. she didn’t need to freak out so hard. Jesus.
So i’m having health issues. My thyroid is hyper functioning and i don’t know what that means or what to do about it. I have to see an endocrinologist, i guess. Mom think’s it’s serious… I was also vitamin D deficit and my blood sugar was high. I am literally a mess – emotionally and physically.
I wish i was dreaming and that one day i’ll wake up to something better. Maybe that’s what death is – waking up to something better (or worse, i guess). Sometimes I don’t feel real. I am bored and numb, walking though my 21 year old life like a teenager. Daniiel and I has sex again – this time in his car. I tried my best to be good but I don’t know – some things i just feel embarrassed about and i’m not good at….bleh. I want him to like me so much – maybe just maybe this will work out… who the fuck knows.
On my 21st birthday, i found myself in Carrier Clinic, a mental hospital, miles and miles from home – and alone, deserted both by Evan, my best friend and Steve, my boyfriend. Evan is the reason i was hospitalized in the first place. He wrongfully accused me of planning to hex him and those he loved and of being on drugs. Only one of these things is true and he seemed more concerned with the one that is not. From then on he wanted nothing to do with me, so naturally i shouted “I’m gonna fucking kill myself”, drove away to Walgreens and downed 150 Tylenol and 100 OTC sleeping pills. They eventually found me and brought the police but i ran like hell until i was handcuffed and held to the ground. Now i am truly and predictably alone with myself and my mind. I just got discharged today but while i was there i found myself aloof and disturbing, I had the most colorful flashback drug dreams about heroin and all i want to do now that i am back home is use but my parents took away my credit card and now i have no money. They also plan on periodically drug testing me which, albeit, isn’t the end of the world. It not going to stop me at least.
I feel sick tonight – the quality of night. The darkness seems to seep into my pores and turn me into one of the monsters that hides so cunningly in it. It’s cold out tonight too. I was just out smoking a cigarette and my dark yard seemed intimidating, I will have no more goodnight calls from Steve and i will never have the warm comfort of knowing Evan will be there to talk to. I have no hobbies and I’m not particularly good at anything. I fear that I will be alone forever. All my comforts have been stripped from me and my emotional state of mind is the equivalent of a cardboard box in the rain.
Being Bipolar and Borderline sucks.
So far, in the past two days i have snorted three (soon to be four) bags of heroin, took a hit of weed out of a one-hitter bottle, smoked weed in a pipe and drank a bottle of Angry Orchard (Apple cider-like beer). The heroin has been wonderful. I can’t even being to imagine life without it, This is my new drug of choice. My birthday is coming up – Friday October 4th, and I’m getting four more bags. The only problem is that I won’t be able to drink a lot or even at all because mixing alcohol and dope is probably the worst idea ever, It leads to blackouts and blackouts, for me, lead to the hospital. My good friend Rachael will be with me though and she’ll be able to watch me also her cousin Sean and my friends Brielle and Analis will be there. I hope to god i get to see Evan too (i don’t care about seeing Steve, my boyfriend because first of all he is a prude and won’t like me drinking/doesn’t know I do drugs and secondly he is antisocial and will want me all to himself – personally Id rather be with friends).
Evan is a curious character too. He would be so mad at me if he found out i was doing heroin. He doesn’t even want to be around me when i’m high on weed. He was around yesterday – a saw it on a facebook status but he didn’t answer my calls or texts! I don’t know why though. Does he think I’m really such a mess? I’m seeing him today after his TSA interview. I just hope he doesn’t notice because I’m totally finding a single bathroom and snorting a line after this class. I haven’t felt this in control in a while.
I binged a little yesterday. I was totally in control all day and all i ate was a small plate of vegetable tempura when suddenly at night (I blame the weed) i went crazy. I had half a chocolate bar, a bunch of sour cream and onion special K crackers, popcorn and a few spoonfuls of ice cream. Considering the calorie total of the day is pretty high for me, it’s not the end of the world and i didn’t gain any weight. I just have to try harder today. Harder so that i can lose what is it now? 33 more pounds and attain perfection.
I think I’m becoming manic again….
Sometimes i feel as if my world is on the brink of collapse. I was over evan, my super cop “friend”‘s, house yesterday. We finished the movie Thor – a movie we had previously gotten too distracted to watch. He was supposed to make dinner for me, but i ended up making pasta and he heated up meatballs from the fridge in his weird-ass microwave… He’s a good guy but i have so many reservations. I give in and give in. i give my body but not too much more. I feel like he will never be really mine and at the same time, i’m not sure if i want him to be. [you could give me anything but love]. i have my boyfriend who is far from perfect but he tries in his own ways and i love him for it, Nothing can compare to the feeling i get when i’m with him – er the feeling i used to get with him from old memories of before. I feel broken and loathesome. why am i such a monster? why do i have to see evan and make a mess of a relationship that might work? I feel embarrassed and insecure. my mom thinks i’m a whore – but i’m not. i’m just really messed up right now. so what do i do? smoke another cigarette, drink… perhaps take a stroll down the drug aisle in CVS so i can pop cough medicine and forget myself for a time?
Being sober is killing me. i don’t want to be just like everyone else – drugs make me feel superhuman for a while that is, but sometimes that’s enough. I’m so frustrated with the fact that i am trapped at home. i’m not allowed to live at college anymore because i’m too crazy. Last semester i flew from my boyfriend’s house to home to school. It was always an escape for me – a private sanctuary to cut and do drugs and drink. it was my release and it made me feel good. worse than missing drugs – i miss the cutting. the beautiful scarmaking that decorates my body. I look at all my scars and long to add to the collection but i know that if my parents find out ill be fucked. and they have been on the warpath of observance. I can wait till winter – when my body is covered and i will have the artistic licence to my body returned.