Sunday, 22 December 2013

To care or not to care.

I say I don't care and yet I'm th one always going out of my way to be nice to people and treat them how I would like to be treated. No one returns this to me. They do not even text back a slight remark of sympathy. 
It's all about you you you, and how you you you do this this this because your somehow the only one in the world you think about. 
Open your eyes, be religious and think of someone else you ignorant being. 

They say you pick your friends... I by to differ, friends are people you more than often converse with as we all have something or rather in common and as to the rest is family. 

I'm so full of Christmas cheer my hearts about to explode. 

Saturday, 21 December 2013

Not again.

Who am I ? Why do I keep doing this. This weight plaques me now more than ever. I worry over every bite I take. I think I'm mentally making myself feel sick like each mouthful is poison. I cannot exercise without fainting in the 45 degree heat. 
I've lost possessions because I can't think long enough to remember where I have put them. 
I can't sleep and if I do it's bad dreams to nightmare. 
I'm sucked of energy and dizzy. 
I carry on to my despair. 
My book pile grows each day as I fail to commit. 

I think of this blog and often and keep myself from expressing what's really going on. I think this could inflict more pain then understanding because no one benefits from this shit. 

What's your opinion of me? Please let me know. 
I guess it's something along the words of selfish, stupid, pathetic, lonely, unappreciative and sick. 
I torment myself and those around me. 
I receive no messages as I have no friends therefore no one replies either. Why would they waste that 10 seconds on my sorry soul. 

I'll ask you about you, but you don't ask about me. What will you think when you read this? Sorry you forgot me? It's my fault cow the world doesn't revolve around me? True but I give you the time of day and go out of my way, a word of thanks wouldn't go astray. 
Why would I hold my head up for someone new when I'm so destined to be alone. Those will only suffer from knowing me. 

Another Christmas watching everyone happy with their lives. Everyone moving on to new beginnings. And here I am continuing in a motionless suicidle circle of darkness. 

I don't want you to change because I know now what to expect. 
I don't want to pretend my feelings much longer as the rope strains. 
This is the end of another year of continuing my mistakes. 
I can't do this, though this is all I am. 

Don't feel sorry for me because you know I was lost a long long time ago. 
I am sorry. 

Tuesday, 19 November 2013

Passing comment.

I don't need alcohol to make a fool of myself. 
I'm alive and that is substantial. 

Saturday, 16 November 2013

Imminent nightmare.

The overwhelming feeling of fear and dvostation. I'm running, I'm screaming to my mother. 
Then every thing goes black around me. Everything but my screams. Waking up is not an option nor possible becaus I don't know what world or inbetween I stand. 
 I cry and flashed with light and I'm jolted in my stance. I'm free for a little longer if I could just get to where I wanted. 
I'm jolted, 
It's black,
And I scream even more. 
I don't believe I can be saved as I'm lost in th ocean of torture and 94% of that is yet to be explored. 

Gods love is stronger than fear. Believe as he will cast them out. 

Friday, 15 November 2013

As I fade in the dark.

I'm going backwards I know. But I can't tell anyone with out letting who cares down and burdening people that don't know the extent of my problems. When I set free and release all these submission confessions of my mind the nightmare will continue as I fear those close reading it. They say thing are bet out in the open and maybe once I finally did at last people will say, well at least she is as peace. 

At my course I'm studying we we're asked to list 10 things that would make quality of life for us. Everyone had 10 or more whereas I struggled to think 3. 
1, mascara & eyeliner 2, pet cat 3, being able to use hands to play piano or violin. 
Everything, I mean everything - friends, family, money, cars, food, joy etc I already live without or can live without. It may appear that my life contains some things when really in my mind what it contains is something else. You may never know. 

I feel guilty for the pain and suffering I put People. That's why I am such a burden. If your reading this I assume you read the chapter where I am trying to explain myself, my situation and the people that love me unconditionally my mother and father. I put them through hell and back. I don't deserve them and I'm afraid of their thoughts because I know these words and submissions will bring many tears to many eyes. I'm afraid my entire world around me will have read this and know my thoughts and secrets. Or maybe I could publish this as fiction and it can be used as an example of a borderline sufferer. 
I can keep it a secret from those who know me and still scare the shit out of everybody who reads this. 
I'm sorry mum. I'm sorry dad. I'm sorry brother and sister. I'm sorry cousin, uncle and aunt. Forgive me lord for in have sinned. Love - a topic I should explain. 
This night marches on. 
God help up all. 

Puke my ribs.

Does reading all this make you feel depressed at all? Or how? That you know my secrets, my fears and my lies. I think my writing this could possibly be more damaging then good. If I could help just one person I would approve this whatever it is. I fear who reads this. Someone I talked to today? Someone who saw me that I didn't see? Questions in need of answers .. = life. 
As usual I appolagize my blabber. 
I can feel the mucous in my crushing my lungs. Antipyretics fail to reduce my fever and I won't be sleeping anytime soon. Sorry! I am wondering who is out there. Like when I hear a plane I look up to see and think of all the people on there and their lives. When vise versa and I'm on a plane I wonder about  the people below, their lives with accomplishes and loses. All the pain and joy. No one I know yet someone I might come across or maybe someone you know who's friends cousin has heard of. 
Too short a life, too simple, too difficult and confusing! I want to shoot myself in the head due to what lies beneath. Today I learned of water babies. In hospital of a terminaly ill born child thy feed water into their brains until it crushes or drowns their poor brains. Thy are asleep and possibly on morphine but their heads can just keep expanding due to that water. I see myself as each day I continue to live I am glad I get closer to my death and actually think to myself To put me in a placid deceiving mood that there is a possibility of me dying today. If I go out I increase the chance of an accident happening than if I just stayed at home. 
Are you questioning people in your head? Did you see me lately and think I was doing well? Thought I was happy and improving? Haha jokes on you. You or anyone will never change this mind of mine and that is just how things go. 

If this blog is to continue I may publish. I've pathetically been giving it thought lately if anyone would be gutsy or silly enough to publish it. I can think of many books and publishing not worth a minute considering to read. 
For now I keep my borderline mind within the border of this page. 

I hope I did not depress you too much. 

Sunday, 10 November 2013

Where's my guardian angel tonight?

Music brings back memories and feelings leaving me in a state of severe depression. I allowed myself as I wanted to feel petty and sorry for myself without reason other than feeling unjust. 
The more I think about myself, the sicker I feel. This thick feeling of a bowling ball in my stomach. I want to throw up so I wash down some mor pills and some more pills to tire myself. I turn off the music. 
Say a little prayer for me or better yet don't. To hold out and fight the night yet again. Hopefully my guardian angel will grace me and give me another chance to let go of the pain and th sufferings on my mind. 
Lord have mercy. 

Falling skies.

You can only ever go so far before it all falls down again. We all know that. Seven steps forward and eight back is the Chinese proverb. 
You read you hear you see and remember. Remember the thoughts and feelings you've previously had. You feel them all too hard again. They will never leave you , how could you be so stupid to think they would?

Foolish child, God loves and forgives you, the two things you can't do to yourself. 

I can erase my mind of the past and I can set my eyes on what's to come in th unknown but I can't understand why. If everything is suppose to happen for a reason why are we all ignorant to that reason. Read your horoscope or g your palm read, you will still never understand the past and or know the future. 
That feeling of pain in your chest is real. It is present. 

Suicide is so easy and so complicated. It's devastating and freeing. It's revealing and confusing. Alive or dead. It's complicates and contradicts lives. 
I can't let the fire die because it is all I am. The fire burns on because I am nothing else. 
Looking up at the skies falling around me I feel lost and afraid. I should be asleep in another dimension living in dreams which feel like someone else's . Thoughts that are someone else's are just as intruding but it's you. Your that potent. 

I hate myself for allowing myself to be bullied and abused. I can't forgive myself for quiting my 40 week therapy because of the exhaustion and havoc It reeked in and around me. I'm the baby of my parents and that's where I've fallen. They pick me up because they have unconditional love for me that I don't deserve. I take a new step tomorrow to try again. I don't think I will ever please myself or love myself. Life seems to be a hard enough punishment. I think of cutting all the time. Every piece of wire, every razor and every knife . My guiltiest pleasure and coping mechanism. Making me feel safe and secure drowning my fear. 
My scars are my reminders. My scars are my proof. I am still alive and breathing. I should would could be happy but I don't believe in feelings so I will continue to act how people expect me to and match th situation, I'll try to put others first and to pay debt to society, I will gain back the relationships I've lost through people through others. I'll hold my breathe for a little bit longer. 
So now saying a prayer, wiping my eyes dry with Kleenex, and sleep bound I will carry on, 
We'll carry on. 

Tuesday, 8 October 2013

Timelessness presence.

Wind: a force with no shadow. A weight of weightlessness. Uncontrollable to avoidable  

It's the situations like these that define us all. That crave for normality that doesn't exist 

So much has happened in the last year and for the last few years I ultimately forgot who I really was and what made me the person I am today. 
Reading through this scrapbook may seem like a goodbye and give off a morbid feeling but this has nothing to do with death. This scrapbook I made to remind me how blessed and proud I have to have so many people in my life. I come from a loving family and the best parents possible. Who else would put up with me? 

Riding the public transport system which smells like dried vomit, I can ignore the cold outside these windows. They may be a terrorist on board or a murderer or even doctor. Really it doesn't matter. 

Thoughts can be disregarded as quick as they arise. So when I see myself in the mirror and see fat, when I look at my clothes more fat. Then looking at the tags of size 8 kids... I am 20 years old. Two size 8 kids pants would not even fit a size of adult 8 jeans.

Unforgiving the forgotten,

We meet again my unknown stranger companions. 
Last night was untouchable, hardly breathable. 
I've come through it by a thread of string. I made a positive from a negative and yet struggle. 
I've cried tears in public: in taxis, on busses and shoulders. 
The conclusion will kill me slowly. 
Kept away from the light this burden will lay, wrapped with warmth and pain. 
When it hatches? 
Time will tell whether it shatters or death will prevail. 

Until we meet again another night. 

Saturday, 28 September 2013

Bury me in satin.

In the emotional management program for borderline personality dissorder broken into the four cat aviaries , emotion regulation, interpersonal effectiveness, distress tolerance and emotional management (core mindfulness).
From learning these skills I have been taught to name emotions. Right now I'm having a tough time naming this emotion and trying to anchor down using mindfulness as my mind keeps being blown away with the wind. 
It's like I'm zoned out. I can watch tv but I'm not really there. I can eat but I'm doing everything mindlessly. So trying to be mindful but it only seems to depress me more. 
Here is where I could/would cut myself or overdose but I know the consequence of those behaviors and it's hardly worth participating in. So I'm going to continue eating my fish oil Lollies because thy are the closest form of food without getting out of bed and feel the breeze of my fan on my face and go to sleep. Tomorrow in 18 minutes. Will b another day, another week beginning, another chance, a fresh start ith hopefully new revelations to come. 

Guten nacht kinder xx 

Wednesday, 25 September 2013

The permanent uphill battle.

It never ends. 
Constant, steady and still. 
A mirage if you will, against a cold repelling hill. 

I stagger, I stumble and fall. 
Never once will I ever stand tall. 
I can't cry out not call, for the fear of my vulnerability and pain. 

What if I could fly? 
Would I make it somehow up higher? To a better more welcoming environment I plead. I beg. I cry instead as I fade into the night. I'll never be alright. 
And this life will always and forever be a constant fight. 

Friday, 20 September 2013

All the real people are not real at all.

Just when your ahead, you fall apart again. 
A glass empty or full, who gives a shit. 
How can one relationship you didn't know how to control fuck you up so bad? 
People are not suppose to act like that but At the time you trusted them and you thought it was normal. Only when other people day and movies you watch do you notice something is wrong. 
If Christianity couldn't save me who would? 

I was sexually abused and I didn't even realize. 
I can and never will let myself forgive my self. I will continue to punish myself forever because that's all I deserve. 
I pray for forgiveness and know it's their but I can't accept it. I broke myself and now I am no one. 
I try so hard I be someone new, someone worthy of something more but At the end of the day I'm still that rotten person and feel like a dirty whore. 
The pain is all to real and I cut myself to try and make it stop but all the blood as I watch it weep doesn't stop my tears. 

I am broken and I don't know what to do. I cry alone and hope no one finds me alone in my guilt. 
How can anyone love something so evil. I've disgraced my family and it sickens me. 

I can't press charges because I can't face it. I can't overcome this fear because it's apart of me now and I have to live with my mistakes. 

The people in my life that die, escape knowing the nauseous truth. 

God save me, God damn me. 
I throw up because I'm constantly sick with guilt. 
Maybe eventually I will fade and disappear. I wait for that day and take this pain with me so no one else has to face it. 

A small price to pay for a life ruined. 
One day at a time. Thank you blog for giving me my grieving release. 
To try and tire my guilty sick soul. 

Make it stop, let this end. 

Thursday, 5 September 2013

Thinking back.

Those who have forgotten me, fear not as I've forgotten myself. 
I will leave you this evening with a small tale. 

Each day I drive past my primary school that I attended. 7 years I spent there. I dream about still attending and of buildings that no longer exist, only to my memory. So I drive past and think of the young innocent me. How I knew I was different but different that I would play with anyone. That child with energy and confidence and full of fun. How could I let her die? I've buried her and I don't know where. 
Now I look at myself and think I never saw this life coming. This life of self harm, cutting yourself so deep your fat layer is exposed, multiple stitches needed. Th more you cut, the more stitches the more scars the more that little innocent girl dies. I have no one to blame but myself. I can't commit suicide because really I am already dead.  

Saturday, 31 August 2013

my conscience alongside my co-existance.

Right or left, good or bad and yes or no - all words to direct your way.
What if your right was actually left no was yes or was it etc etc?

I cannot remember if i have blabbed on about this shit yet or not. so yet again here I go. And i havent blogged in so long no wonder I am losing touch with reality.

What the fuck is wrong with me is all the words I can think to describe how I feel. I think I should be dead especially if you think if modern civilisation hadn't progressed mentally and medicine annd medical procedures surrounding all forms of anatomy, majority of us would be dead. Possibly more than majority.

There for I form a possible as always condescendingphilololgical question that I was born in the wrong era. I have the right people it feels around me, but who am i? I ask myself this. am I suppose to be here? am i someone I don't know I am 
Today in part of my walks i was thinking of memories but those memories were from dreams. I live more in my dreams than I do here. but where is here? where the fuck am I and whats going on. I want it all to stop to just stop. i dont know, I dont have control i dont understand feelings or motives or anything or anyone.
im utterly confused.

I gave some serious thought tonight about hanging myself. But the pain it would cause others and lives  i would effect either in their dreams and reality too. do i really want to pass on the questioning of reality? is all i do is question myself?
I only ever find answers in The Lord. But but but. you can but everything.

People dont like me. People know and label me weird, psycho, whatever, who cares. do i care to be writting this ? I just want to make sense because i thought i was doing so well and now putting myself out there has changed it all and i just wanna hide under a rock and die. No one wants to meet me or know me better, people disregard me as worthless.
The lives ive changed can always be changed by someone else.
Suicide wont even save me I see that now. Suicide ends suffering in this world but will continue it in another, I believe Hell.
So am I to ride it out and suffer then eventually meet Jesus and just feel his love through an embrace. The beautiful thought brings tears to my eyes. 

these blogs I know will only get me into trouble. But I am already in trouble, and I dont have a way out.

Im left to wonder, what now? 

( to go with the scrapbook I've made )

So much has happened in the last year and for the last few years I ultimately forgot who I really was and what made me the person I am today. 
Reading through this scrapbook may seem like a goodbye and give off a morbid feeling but this has nothing to do with death. This scrapbook I made to remind me how blessed and proud I have to have so many people in my life. I come from a loving family and the best parents possible. Who else would put up with me? 
Another reason was that memories fade but photos remain therefore by collecting some favourites and random reminding pieces I've put together an Alzheimer's documentary of my childhood. 
I am not a great person, hec I barely have any friends but I have my faith, my family and incessant mind day after day. 

Let this scrapbook be the beginning of the end. 

Saturday, 17 August 2013


instinct. The sixth supposed sense. Is it a sense? or is it an inheritable belief of something more, something far beyond our comprehension.

I ask of this sense as few learn to recognise it and use it. Whether it's “I have a funny feeling” or “This doesn't feel right”, both leading to more conscience based feelings but still a sense leading further. A sense you cannot control. A talent maybe?

I know I am watching a good film if part way though catching my breathe I happen to think 'What if?“ some of the things you see are not far from the truth. What if we are all part of something, something much bigger than our comprehension. I believe we are. There is too much in this world to go on faith alone. You need a belief for if we had no belief we would have no purpose and no purpose would strive us to live a life.

We are intended to be here. And we all have a plan. Nothing just happens. Every death affects someone. Every birth is a mark.

Please God forgive us our sins.

Home alone in the country.

half my family is in the USA on holidays in the summer time and i am here in the winter eating to try and  stay warm. the wind here is awful and the weather is unpredictable.

I thought i was happy at first I was alone but it feels depressing now. Perhaps is I focus on the positives things will go right. I have a carer coming to see me once a week to make sure I am coping, I rather a carer than going into respite.

It is half time in the AFL I am watching and is already majority of what I have done all day being eating and watching TV. 

For once I don't really have anything bad enough on my mind to complain about. I am more thankful for the things I do have. They say money cant buy everything, well how do you get friends cos they don't grow on trees and in the meantime of finding then at least you have possessions to make you smile.
Perhaps it is BPD but if I am stressed I go shopping. Not the best idea for my finances but its good just to look as well. The things you see, the ideas that come to your mind the experience is wholesome and consuming and you usually leave happy with a bargain or special with something expensive. How you someone not like new items?
Tomorrow is a new day. A gift really. A second chance. Use it wisely. 

Loss of meaning - copy & pasted

I was not going to type any of this but what a waste it would be if i didn't. so here i go with my copy and paste from just under a month ago.

So I have recently finished the endeavour of reading  the all time classic, the diary of Anne Frank.  For those who are unfamiliar it is the diary of a young jewish girl Anne, living in in a secret attic and annexe behind a bookcase throughout the world war 2 in Germany with some family and other Jews.

The way Anne interpreted things was just that of a girl but as the diary grew from the two and a bit years in the attic she was forced to grow up and lose the innocence and ignorance children are blessed with, not being aware of the pain and sorrow following others.
I skipped a chapter or two towards the last few entries because in a way she started to lose her mind and hope. She knew about the Jews getting murdered and starved. How Hitler and his rein of fuhrer, the nazis and Gestapo etc.
I ha to stop because it was too upsetting. If something happened like that these days, people just would not cope. They would not be able to survive but poor Anne and all the others her age and younger killed and forced to lose their childhood, their families, everything they owned but precious memories and faith. Hitler could not rob any Jew of their Faith.

I could go on and on about Anne frank, but really she was the same as thousands and hundreds of others. Only her dad find her diary and now the whole world has read it. I bet eh did not see that coming!

Reading this book I felt utterly helpless. There was nothing anyone could do to escape the Holocaust. It makes today's problems of obesity and global warming so insignificant that you need to slap yourself in the morning to realise how bloody good we have it! 

I'm a spoilt brat that's already travelled around the world to 5 different countries, 7 if you count Amsterdam and kuala lumpar airports. 
I've seen more of the USA than I have Australia. 
What makes my life so fortunate? Then I still end up a cutter, and so many mental problems.
I read the other day that dumber people are happier because they still contain the ignorance of a child. Even then I don't envy them. Things are just easier to see on the surface then explore beneath the sand.
Like those moments staring into the stars. Who and what do you feel? What do you feel? 

Would you survive if authorities pushed you to your limit after starving and forcing you to run barefoot and naked through snow to be shot Orr everyone around you shot? You children killed in front of you? Your family torn, your possessions, homes, friends, everything. It hurts to consider but reiterates the fact, the common people of today would not survive, and perhaps some even deserve to be shot, maybe someone does deserve to be gassed? But who are we to judge?all to end o in some mass grave. We are not God. 
How could God let the Holocaust happen? Why would God let his only son died?

Why? To make us trust him. To keep faith find believe. if bad things didn't happen we would not experience the good things. And therefore life would be irrelevant. 

Wednesday, 24 July 2013

Meal of horror

I'm sorry my blog doesn't have a story line to make it sound interesting. When I apologize I'm saying it to the Blog, because to me the Blogspot site is like a friend, as wouldn't any friend you don't know well would share useless information on the internet, especially about someone silly enough to confess it. 

So today. I got told by my doctor if i dont gain weight this month he might put me in hospital cos im low in everything and its beginning to effect my organs. Little did he know i was wearing heavy clothes and had just drank a liter of water and soup before weigh in. I don't think I will go to hospital I think I will just try to maintain weight because then isn't it not Anorexia if I can stay a weight not constantly losing? I don't think I have a problem. I'm not that obsessed. I want to stay in control and I know control of eating is a symptom but I really don't see it being a problem. I would look better I think if I was skinnier. I hate many parts of me especially thighs but I noticed today whilst trying to do sit ups which didn't hurt as I was sore from the night befores, that I could get my fingers under my ribs and hold it if I sucked my gut in. Weird. So I've decided maybe try to get my nutrients up by whey based weight loss shakes as they maintain, gain and lose depending on how you use it but it scares me to think If its enough calories for tea how can it be for breakfast? Wouldn't a coffee be better for the stimulating caffeine and appetite suppressing? Very confused and unsure how to approach tomorrow. 

Until we meet again. 
Yesterday's forgotten, tomorrow a mystery and today a surprise. That's why it's called a present. (Emily Roosevelt I think... Don't quote me on that )

Saturday, 20 July 2013

Surprised and shun Sunday

Sunday morning here I am. 
I did not overdose, I did not do anything wrong or take too many pills of anything, no cutting, no staying up late nothing.

This morning in a turn of unfortunate events I woke up with a burning pain in the stomach and had to run to the toilet immediately. I thought I was going to be coming out both ends as I was in so much pain and overwhelmed by burning cramps, I started crying and couldn't stop so I decided to go get a bucket downstairs and go to the toilet there as wouldn't disturb anyone, then I collapsed and fell down the stairs and continued to stumble as I regain consciousness only to lose it again, up down up down until minutes later my mother found me limp, which I don't remember, I could hear sirens but that was in my head then I was on the lounge where mum left me to take me to hospital. I didn't take anything I said again and again as my father swore and swore at me. Mum left me at the hospital and went back to get some paperwork which she took a while so I'm guessing copped some abuse from dad. When she came back I was slowly regaining consciousness by blood pressure on 80. To which was 90 last week on my overdose. 
Eventually came home and stayed in bed until 12, my mum force feeding me. 
Dad thinks I eat too much, then he tells me I don't eat enough, so I cannot please him. Ad now he won't even look at me because it pains him too much. I am too much a toxic of a daughter for him to know he created. I have failed him, and I now bare the guilt of my fathers dislike for me. :( it brings me to tears because I just want to please him. Same as when he abuses my mum about how I stopped playing piano, and then when I did play it was not to his standard, He doesn't even know how to play piano!!!!!
Not looking at me, not speaking to me, yelling t my mum about me. I'm the cause of I'd say 80% of their quarrels. 
I can't do anything to change this but hang my head in shame and think what a screw up I am because even if I was different it still would not be good enough for him.

And he wonders why I have problems with relationships.... 

Out of sunlight, out of mindful thinking

Was is something I did? Or do I just come across a good target or just that much of an outcast and can't let people in people just push me under the rug. I was right. I was ditched my birthday night, left to overdose. People I see and say Hi to turn and look the other way. My father is angry and ignoring me. I can say I want his attention as childish as that sounds but I feel I have failed him so much he does not want to have any more to do with me because it is too painful.

I think I am just not meant to have friends. I prefer teddy bears anyway. 

It's only nighttime as my medication is wearing off as it is time to dose up perhaps or my nocturnal thoughts consume me. I can pretend I am wise. Fake to myself that my confusing thoughts are clear. I doubt there is any benefit reading this flip flops of rubbish blog nod yet I continue to let out my mind. 
Writing it down does not make me "feel" anything as such but leads me to believe it is out of mind, or at least put into a context rather then circulating.

I wish things were different.
I wish I could forget what pains me and fills me with shame. 
The more I deny these facts to myself the darker I become. 

I feel trapped.
I feel worthless and unwanted. 

I wish someone with no unconditional love such as a family member would show me an inch of kindness so I can find hope towards the future. 

Feeling about due to overdose.

Wednesday, 17 July 2013

A reattributing vengeance

I have done it. I have seen the light. The light on my own stupidity and pety ignorance. I've lived 18 - 19 cutting with stitches, burning, starving and screaming. Through nightmares, terrors and sweats, overdoses and hearing voices. God, name it and I have survived it. The hurricane within myself with a tornado to the ground. I am now 20. A new beginning. Really no different to a week ago but I'm going to claim it so. 
I was informed of my antics of the last overdose, collapsing off the toilet face first to the ground, my poor Christian mother to pick up the pieces, oh and I had my phone with me, the new shock proof cover is proving its value.

I'm writing so fiercely and gallantly it feels. I just watched “the campaign”' to try and get the 1890 folk talk out of my head but it seems to be filling my head. Deadwood is just too good a show to turn off. Onto be in simpler times, simpler in ways but complicated in other ways. That is why I think reincarnation or past life bullshit is a load of crap. Every era is worth living so you can only live once, no one picks and choses oh hey I'm going to be wealthy here and run a saloon then riding a dinosaur as a microscopic bacteria embrio. But hey, you can believe in Santa so if you wanna believe that, good luck to you.

The thing is no matter what situation you may find yourself it can always be compared to someone worth. There's always going to be someone richer poorer, better looking, uglier etc its what choices you make and how you interpret them. 
And money is always the source of evil. Who do you think would be happier, a kid in the early 1950s with a balloon or a ball in cup, or a kid with an iPad or Xbox? Naturally you would assume the second and yet the rate of depressive disorders rise. 
Forget surveys, forgetting whatever mumbo-jumbo I'm rambling about and look at yourself, and what your going to focus on tomorrow, that is if you live through the night.

By the way my death situation last night was smoke inhalation. My fan engine failed and fumes filled my room, no fire as no heat from randomly not using my heater, and my ultrasonic vaporiser purifying the air. I woke to the smell and after dealing with it went back to sleep to wonder if it was a dream. It smelt like electrical burns so I'm lucky there was no backfire to my house catching fire.

The ifs and buts may catch you, but it happened out of my control. Now I have another old fan, questioning myself if it will fail or not. Can I take the chance? Can I I take the one in six chance of winning the deal or no deal?

I can go to bed and stop this nonsense.

P.s I apologise the rubbish talk of this becoming a published novel, for several reasons. Mainly this is hardly something classical to read compared to the ever popular “ diary of Anne Frank”' then again as I say, different times, the Fuehrer is dead and I am not living in hiding in an attic behind a bookcase. I am what some may call in modern times, not talking about technical advances as such as first world problems. Cripes, Shakespeare would roll over in his grave to know that the language he made poetic is now a dance of offensive contemptuous blasphemy and ridicule.

Monday, 15 July 2013

Sudden thought; sudden death.

I wouldn't suppose if I found some poor lost souls and conveyed them to publish my pathetic blog into a short book would they? Could be labelled "warning: examples of depression and borderline personality disorder= your new fucked up life. " or "what not to become". Honestly I wouldn't want people that know me to read it because I think it would be painful and I don't want to cause anymore pain to what family I have. But if reading this could help someone in some crazy way whether they have as little as a scratch on them or psychiatric disorder, I would help. People always need help and needn't be afraid to ask as human nature it is welcomed.
And with that I bid you Good night. xx 

Dear God, make me a bird.

I must be one of the most selfish beings. I tell myself about all the friends and relationships I don't have then don't see the family that I do have. Self judgement. If I died tonight which I just might. Only 20 by 6 or so hours and already my perspective of life is changing. Perhaps due to the liver cells I've damaged, the people I've hurt and betrayed, the episodes of Deadwood and SVU watched tonight, the delicious food I've eaten and the unconditional love my beautiful mother shines on me I've seen the light. That be said the battle of borderline personality disorder continues. I can feel like I don't wanna be known as the girl from that town that killed herself, but the suicidality blinks on me in a flash. 
I cant express anymore than I can speak. I call myself stupid and worthless daily and one realization does not change that. That will always almost happen but I can try, I can pray and I can believe. 

I thank God on this birthday for my family. Without them I internally would not exists.  

If I die this night (which I likely won't, I just can't sleep at the current time) I would encourage everyone to feel the rain on their face and remember me as that girl with a silly blog that would always rant on.  

Sunday, 14 July 2013

Another day, another organ failure.

I don't remember waking Up or falling off the toilet crying and sleeping for hours on the outside swing seat. My mother is the caring understanding idol in my life , I bless her every day and  thank god every day for her. Without her I am literally fucked.

My father is of a different understanding of the situation at hand. I didn't want to die but be sees he has failed me and will not let on to understand further. I love my parents to death and honour them but I can only hope they feel the same towards I. .
I haven't seen my dead since he last swore at me this morning ? Time will only tell and hopefully time will only heal.

Until another moment of time worth to quote. I wish you all well.

Why did you let me swallows pills?

Not to be mellow dramatic.
I don't have friends, only family which is better in a way but pains me as much. You chose your friends and no one choses me. I've never been chosen, never to be sat with at school, included in events or house to go play at. No one choses me. Fuck them. Fuck the lot of them. I am sick and tired of bring everyone's fall back. I have enough issues with relationships and don't get attached to people but I still end up getting hurt, whether I physically  hurt myself or psychologically. 
It was my birthday dinner, and though I didn't invite any friends due to lack of them to invite, they haven't even remembered despite Facebook reminders. 

No one wants to be alone. Even that girl that gets left out and pretends she doesn't care, because really the pain of being rejected by all other then relations because they have no choice. I could describe I feel like a clown in the middle of the Parliament House or a shag on a rock.  I could feel that way but my brain is making me feel numb, which in turn is worse.

I have no further comment that won't already upset me further then suicidally needed. 

 To overdose or not overdose? That seems to be the question.
Do I want to die? Ultimately no, but deep down yes. Is it better in the long run? Yes, is it beneficial? No will people that really do care be hurt? Yes. Will you lose the one reason on this earth you think you serve? To honour your mother and father ? Yes so swallow pills but enough that you will survive, heck you have made it this far. See how long you can type.

It is petty to think I care about friendships and things I dare not admit to or is it that I care or think I should care? Or that I see other people with more other people? Why am I so different? And I know everyone is different but I have never been normal! Not mundane, there is always something what some would say is quirky or weird to just plain fucked up. I apologise for my language but my standard of not trusting people never ceases to lift and never will.
I just don't understand. 
I am told I over think things, well if I wasn't so darn intelligent I wouldn't. If I was ditzy and fatter everyone would like me but no I'm sarcastic with a distorted self image 

I need to stop. Again my apologies of this misleading preach of emptiness. 

Monday, 8 July 2013

Ripping open a wound? Cutting a new one is better.

I was told today about analogy of putting a bandaid over a wound and then ripping it off and letting it bleed and so on and so fourth basically about not letting things bottle up. Another example. If a glass is half full and you keep filling it up, eventually it has to over flow.
So what are our wounds?
Lacerations or gun shot wounds? What about heart break or despair? Anxiety an fear. The confusion of emotions often leads to more emotions causing more pain and more emotions of more thoughts and what have you. The list just goes on. and on. and on.

You think you have a partner. Your innocent sweet 16. And that one person you let in takes something so precious and meaningful to your well-being that you crumble at their feet. You can't look back because sooner or later its all happening out of your control you don't even realize the extent of the wounds being made. Your religious beliefs shut down. Your self esteem lost. Your virginity stolen. Your feelings numbed. Your phone thrown against the wall. Your location unknown. Your face in a constant gaze. You can't even watch a movie without being touched inappropriately. What about your thoughts mocked? The disgusting tongue from a mouth that doesn't brush their teeth forced inside you mouth, your body invading your soul. All the wounds in the world I could describe were felt within myself until suicide is my only option short of starving myself and cutting. Cutting always makes better wounds. Wounds you can control. Wounds that can heal, sure there is a scar but thats better to show then your face which constantly reminds you of grief. every look in the mirror is as painful as pins in your eyes.

All I have is describe how I feel and the past in what best few words I could. Nothing can explain what abuse is all about. I only hope you don't recognize what I have written. I have to stop myself from writing more because I need to take my medication and go to bed to wake for another day of therapy.
I never have good dreams. I need to stop.
One last thing.
It was a year ago I ripped open my wound. Stitches to ovedoses and hospital and mental institution stays. Medication, scars and just when I think i'm starting to get better it all comes crashing down. Here I was thinking hey I'm 20 in 7 days. I lived a year longer then I thought I would and then I was asked an unexpected question about my ex and now it has me thinking and I can feel it all flooding back, like a mite burrowing up my skin. At the end of the day, you can't hide who or what you are. You cannot change. You can go either direction and you can always kill yourself tomorrow.

After all this My Chemical Romance always Get me through. Even though they have broken up, when I listen to "Light behind your eyes" I feel as if they are singing to me and still care and are there for me when I need them. Music - What you can always believe in, where you will always find hope <3

My train of though is being put to bed now.
Until we meet another day. Peace.

Persuading prejudice.

It's funny the way depression affects us all differently. For me, I lost music. Something I loved became something I was afraid of. Thanks to that fear I gave it all up. My "tickling the ivory" as my Gramps called it came to a unique halt. I say unique as every key I played caused pain until I just couldn't do it anymore.

This last few weeks I have worked in a High care facility. Seen people once quick and able become incontinent and lose their mind. Their keen thoughts, good intentions, lives lost in time. Some of them have no family for hours away, many of which do not even bother to call. dribbling and confused they lay in their rooms from hours to days to years until death finally sets them free; from who they were who they still are but what they will never feel again. There is no reason to death unless their is a Heaven; I chose to believe in Heaven which would make all that worth it. To be united with the lost, forgiven for the unforgivable and remembered for what your worth.

Labour that. Liberal this. These old people can't even enjoy their mundane breakfast in the morning. Maybe a luke warm cuppa ? (because hot on someone who was a bit shaky would burn themselves) Not to mention constant hospital food and the tainted taste of plastic throughout EVERYTHING. Noticing everyone has visitors but you. Not recognising your family, your own children. Do you have children? Who are you? What are those pictures above you? Until you get so upset over everything you see that it all gets taken away and you are left with not a bare but what feels naked room. At least you are warm? You rest in crisp sheets. With no measure of time eventually it will all fade away.

Saturday, 6 July 2013

8 days before the unconditional superficial hour.

Only eight days until I turn the big  2 0. Honestly it doesn't excite me in the slightest. It is just like any other day in the year. Yet when it is someone elses birthday I try hard to help them think its the one day of the year about them and make it special. Is it I don't deserve a birthday or is it a reminder I have no friends but only family to celebrate with. Family Is better then what some people have and last year I confessing to my aunt how I felt about the upcoming day she said well it can just be a nice day for the family to be together, and I couldn't agree more. Only lately I believe because of my intense in patient therapy am I starting to control my borderline personality. Turning negatives into positives and it is giving me hope. Something I have not had in years. I may not have friends but I also think things are easier without friends. If I really wanted some I could find some so really I only have myself to blame. 

I am so blessed to have my family. They are a group of fantastic beings and I'm so proud to be apart of it. My parents are my idols. I can't express the words of gratitude, honour and love I have for them. It may not be how I feel because I get confused of tying emotions to named, it may not be how I think I should feel or how I show how I feel but it is what I think. And that's the truth.
I don't believe in lucky, but I am lucky, very lucky. My parents are the best people in the world. Both intelligent loving and whole. We all have our demons and I have now learnt to crept that. Accepting doesn't mean I agree but I acknowledge this. 

I have allergies. And they have left my face this last week in hives and rashes. It hurts and looks very sore. I consider myself fortunate. Pole still have worse conditions that won't resolve themselves.mi know mine will heal but others with conditions such as psoriasis or eczema will continue to suffer greatly. 

My working with the elderly this last two weeks has also opened my eyes to a whole new world but I will leave that open for another blog. If you do know someone elderly, family or not I would encourage you to go see them. You may think its awkward and uncomfortable but an old person is just happy to have someone sit next to them, to listen to them or better yet play an instrument. If you feel awkward the old person does not because they have so many thoughts going on in their heads from possibly memories or motives that they don't even realise you have stopped talking. That or they didn't hear you! Old people have a sense of humour to. 

Monday, 1 July 2013

Why? When? Die?

Why me? Why now? Why anything at all?
Question after question we ask ourselves; do really ever find answers? Or just quick solutions that will mask the wound for now. The brain is constantly comprehending. 
People ask how can there be a god when terrible things happen? Because there would be no such thing as good things if we didn't have a comparison to bad. Comprehend that. 
I don't man to force my beliefs on anyone but I love sharing the word of God and I try and let his love shine through me. 

Why regret? Such as tattoos. At the time seemed a good idea but we are constantly changing so what was good is not so anymore. Comprehend that. 

The world is such a titanic ferocious yet delicate balance. We are all common. We are all people. And eventually we all die.   

Monday, 24 June 2013

My ears are burning. Who's guilty?

It seems to be always at night right while I am trying to fall asleep that I think to blog but then the effort to do so and light that would shine in my eyes is unbearable.

I have not been up to much. I still cannot bring myself to read books though I have watched many many films over the last few days majority of which were horror. my mind is in a bit of a conundrum from all the witches and spirits and demonic things the mind can think, but it was only today whilst watching World War Z in 3D in cinema that I found myself taken a step back. I am a zombie fan when it comes to 'The Walking Dead' and it always plagues me how when the apocalypse happens, "the dead will rise". It is comforting to know Brad Pitt will survive the zombies but the film was too much like "2012" just escaping in the nick of time. Anyhow it got me thinking though, what would I do in a zombie apocalypse? I don't have a gun and I don't think I could have much energy to run. Because all these films are in America they have so many more weapons and defence forces than us so of course they will be the first to tackle...
I have officially been mind fucked. No more movies, please. Apart from the most recent Harry Potter film on TV. The plan has worked though watching so many films and upping sodium valproate have stopped my brain having abusive dreams.

Over the last week I have actually begun to appreciate my family and see how lucky I really am. I wont go into the corny humble crap because honestly you need to be in the mood to do that and I don't think I am other than when I am about to sleep.

I have begun to play the piano again and violin again. Music and the way you play is a great time consumer and brain teaser. Always feel smarter after doing either.
Playing an instrument is like driving a manual car, it's an art.

I'm sorry. When I have something worth blogging about, I'll be back.
Don't hold your breathe. Peace x

Thursday, 20 June 2013

It's always darkest just before the dawn.

If I got a hammer and smashed my wrist/arm do you think it would break? 
Am I already too broken to be plastered together.  If the bone broke through the skin I think I might pass out.
Why I think these things before I sleep I cannot say. 

I don't like showing my feelings. Infact I struggle to believe I have them at all. I'm now turning three blogs into one. Perfect example of a borderlines mind. From one numbless act onto another. Or maybe I'm just chaotically a pain in the ass. This is why I have no friends, or why I have never had any real friends. 
People cross paths and you can always find someone anyone to talk to, same as if you go shopping with the intention if buying you are going to buy something.

With all these intentions pulsing through are veins leads me to question why I'm so embarrassed of myself. I am a real pain in the ass. Why someone doesn't run me over or cut my breaks like I dream every night I don't know. But the more I think about myself the more I want to cut it away, starve it, erase it and ignore it. I think I have control and then I burden someone else. I'm honestly sorry. 
Intentions? To directions and perceptions. Fault may prevail but the sun will rise. 

Stay awake with me and let's you prove them wrong. 
It's always darkest until the dawn . - rise against x

Monday, 17 June 2013

27days 10hours 44minutes & 19 seconds

27days 10hours 44minutes & 19 seconds
.  That's the amount of time counting down to one day. My birthday. My 20th. 

Honestly I didn't think I would make it 
and there is still time to suggest It wont.

27 days and 44 minutes. This time. Is it a limit or a stretch? When I think about it I question what ill I learn in this space of time to what I do now? Will my oppinion on abortion and vote in th up coming election change? Will I have new scars? Will someone I know die. Will I lose weight or get fatter? Will I be alone? Will I almost get out of this hole? 
27 days to 27 years will this depression last? BPD is a thought process not a curable thing. 
Can I afford to stay on my medications? Will I admire someone new? Questions. Questions are all we are going to face in life. There are no real answers because it only matters what you think for yourself and your happy itch that understanding then you have your answer. 
Me? I am the one in question. I have no doubt about heaven and God. I believe in Christianity. I may not feel like God is by my side but I know at the end I am being carried. 
Is that my answer? Have I already answered my question? How can I be so down and depressed when the worst thing which is the thug I want to die is going to heaven and with so many I have already said goodbye to. 
Although my difference is suicide. Suicide sends you to hell. After I post this blog I'm going on eBay to purchase Dante's inferno and see what I can gain from that and hopefully my fire will be lite from this depression and I can read again! 

If we have nothing to lose in life and everything to gain why I we so public about confrontation and afflictions? Anything meaningful is worthless as it is committed to the hands of The Lord. 

I probably sound as if I'm cheering up. Believe me I'm not. I will still wake up tomorrow with my own devices and states of mind. I will continue to fight for my life each day. 

I don't think my blog teaches much or offers hope to anyone. It wouldn't even make a good book. But it's a way of making sense of confusion when your laying down to sleep. 

If you believe in me the way I believe in you, nothing could be more stronger or more beautiful. Hope can rise as heads fall down with tears. Fears change your view and dreams dim your hope but afflictions do not make your life. Not one thing will define your life. Name, feelings, skin colour and hair are irrelevant. 

Close your eyes, hear your heart beat, breathe deeply and really live for a minute. Jus try it. 


Thursday, 13 June 2013


I close my eyes to darkness and surrender myself to darkness when my eyes are awake. 
I sleep, I eat, I stand up and stumble.
But what does it all mean? 
I can't run, whistle or see. There is but no light. 
I feel the burning of my skin and flames of my sin. 
12 steps right and 10 steps backwards. 
No way around, i fall to the ground. 
Down, down , down. 

No sound. No tears of belief or resentment of fear. 

I lay here still and wait
for everything. 
Down, down, down. 
Help me . Happiness where for aut thou?

Wednesday, 12 June 2013

Psalm 51:10

So the good Lord has blessed me and now I can't sleep because I am so awake. I've taken my handful of pills but I'm still buzzin. 
Thinking about how I crave for a purpose. When I wake up I want there to b a place I need to  be or someone I want to see but there is no one and ther is nothing. 

Some might say I'm lonely but I'm the one that pushes everyone away. 

I pray that God forgives me my sins and keeps me safe, that may my family be blessed and those hungry eat and those hurting be healed. But I? Help me to be forgotten and to disappear so everyone is better off without me.  That I burden no one further with my morbid talk and suicidality, with my sarcastic depressing charm and heavy person to bare. 

I am so sorry of who I am. 
I can not cry unless I see someone else crying. I cannot look people in the eye when they look at me and I cannot feel anything but pain and remorse every breathe I take though I'm clueless to what my own actions have heen but at the hand of others. 

I am so very sorry. Amen

Psalm 51:10
Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a stead fast spirit within me. 

The ache to disappear.

Here I am again! to bitch some more about the world.

Have you ever wanted to just disappear? But what happens when you disappear? Right now my struggle is with my nightmares. The surviving of abuse and rape is not so fantastic. Its like you were a crystal glass, shiny and perfect and now you were thrown at a brick wall, shattering into billions of miniature pieces and day by day another piece is blown away or stepped on.
Okay, so that wasn't a very good metaphor or example because no one knows what it is like to be a inanimate object.
My issues at the moment are I've realised I am in a way afraid of the male type. I want nothing to do with any sexual behaviour. I don't care if I was married and it was sinless. I just can't. I'm too broken and I am scared to be fixed. I am afraid so terribly afraid.
All my dreams lately are focussed on being rapped or chased or I'm blind and being chased. which basically according to dream psychology which is simple.
Although is it? There are so many reasons as to why people dream, when they should, how often they should but how and when they do is not always correct. It comes down again as per everyone is different. That is all there is to it.
I can't explain life any better than you can. We all experience it different so there is no proper way to live it.
I don't know where I am anymore. I think it would be best if I just swam out to sea until I could no longer get any further. Oh that was in my dream last night too! Now I remember I had to hang on to a rope as my family was on holidays and a chopper took us out to sea but I fell out and dropped in the ocean and my fear of immensity set in and I was drowning suffering and screaming at the top of my lungs. Better yet there was raw T-bone steaks floating around me and I couldn't see a boat or land.
Mind you, I prefer that part of the dream then the abusing parts.
My father has told me I wouldn't have so many nightmares if I didn't watch so many horror films. The thing is horror films don't scare me because they are not real! But oh no I did what he said and haven't watched any in orever and I have them worse then ever. My plan tonight is to stay up as late as possible and then a handful of mixed pills.
I could follow my self care plans and ring a hotline or any of the number of psychologists consulting me but why? No one can change the past. Yes, they can say some words to help me. But I need to learn to help myself. Pathetic I know. I sicken myself. I am so shamed and guilty and horrified. I have short hair now to. Why? Because instead of cutting my arms I have now taken to hacking at my hair. Leave a rats nest for the hairdressers to fix.
Someone asked me the other day what my favourite TV shows were, that I absolutely had to watch. I couldn't say one. Sure there are things I would watch if they were on but I don't follow any of them and weight my life upon them. (I already had my obsessions when I was 13 if you've read my my chem blog you will understand).
I know a woman in my group therapy, she is the perfect example of someone who weights there life upon something completely out of their own control. That's exactly the reason I don't, because I need control. I NEED IT! and yet I am so out of control.
Anyway, this women, would die for port power. She watches every game no matter what, wears only port power merchandise and even paints her nails. I can understand why she does it. I can understand why anyone would weight their life on something. 1. control and 2. Something to focus on so they don't have to focus on themselves. == Because dedicating yourself to a consuming activity is side tracking away from control but feels as if they are in control because they know what there life is about. If that makes sense? It does to me.
Can anyone really have a favourite TV show? I think we have new ones all the time because they are constantly being made and being renewed and improved.
One film I stumbled across has became my favourite because I admire it. Sophie's Choice, aka Meryl streep, living life after WW2 after having to chose which of her children will live and die once off the train at the extermination camp Auswitz.
Have I bored you enough for one night? I think so.
Auf Wiedersehen!