A daytime nightmare of survival.
Mental Health Advocate
A decrepit narrative of a young girls survival through chronic and mental illnesses. Starring Anorexia Nervosa & depression, deep emotional thoughts being my release of what plaques me to those you are not alone.
And now we face pregnancy.
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.