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.