“The truth is everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for.” – Bob Marley
I used to write diary entries on this blog nearly daily. Now I barely write any diary entries. I guess I got caught up in the chaos of life. I guess I kept putting it off. I guess I have been so drained of energy that I cannot muster up the words to describe my experience of reality. I’m in the process, as I always say, of writing a long diary update post, there is a lot I want to get out of my head and into words on this blog.
Where do I start?
I feel like I am descending into death. The pain, the burning acid wearing away at my body is tearing me apart. There is no pain relief. There is no peace. There is no clarity. There is no joy. There is no happiness. There is no emotion. I am numb, I feel nothing yet hyper sensitive to vibrations and energies. I feel sick. I feel my brain is numbed and soggy from the pharmaceuticals prescribed. Fibromyalgia is debilitating me.
I can’t quite believe it is nearly a year now since I tried to commit suicide for the third time after I came back from a hellish travelling experience in the North of Spain in early July 2019. My brain hasn’t seem to have caught up to this current reality. I still don’t quite believe what happened, it feels like I am looking back on another person, yet it is also myself. I want to howl and cry and scream yet I cannot, I am numbed and feel no emotion. Okay, I feel some emotion (guilt, shame, slight warmth maybe when I hug, misery, despair, desperation). What the fuck happened? I’ve tried to heal from it, yet all my avenues fail me. Betrayal is a hard pill to swallow, yet it taught me a lot of things, about humans, about reality and how others can act. I could never have imagined what happened. Yet, I know it was wrong, on a human level. It was meant to be on my soul path. I have to keep learning to accept what was and what is now.
My lymph glands are swollen in my neck and my lips are so sore they are cracked and I can’t speak properly. Stress. Overwhelming stress from all angles.
I cannot think properly. I haven’t been able to think properly in two years. My mind is a hazy fog swamp. Somehow I manage to maintain a blog and stay alive. I guess we are built for survival. Do you know how awful it is to not be able to think clearly or have a clear head? Brain zaps randomly come and go. I am numb and forget words. I used to read the dictionary for breakfast, now those words escape my grasp, to the pain of my ego self-worth partially built on intellect. Luckily I manage to do what I can. Speaking to people is hard, I slur my words, am hazy and forget what I am saying. I forget what I have just done minutes ago. Memories are not clear. I can’t remember what happened in the past week, I am stuck in a stagnant swamp of a mind. Pharmaceuticals? Brain damage? Infection? Trauma? I keep wanting to understand what has happened to me. Amnesia is awful, it’s sickeningly scary to not know what you are doing or what you did yesterday.
I pray I sleep at night. I pray to my angels, guides and to the all mighty one that is the essence of my consciousness. I’m used to smoking cannabis in the evening. I used it to escape the pain of my reality, the gut wrenching body pain wearing me down, to forget, to just be, to feel something other than what I feel now which is what I will go into. It’s a dependency borderling addiction. I don’t have it now. I don’t usually smoke alone. I like to smoke socially. I enjoy making love with my partner after having smoked cannabis as my body pain is reduced and I can actually feel a slighter degree less pain. I miss it. But I had to go again. I’m here now, at my parents. Last night I took two sleeping pills to be bake to get to sleep. I was given them for PTSD flashbacks and anxiety, now months and months later I am still on them. I wish things were not this way. This is not me, taking fucking sleeping pills. I wake up feeling very groggy, brain zapped and it takes a while to get back to my regular fucked up state of consciousness. I wish I could sleep and never wake up. I want to be gone into the infinite dream of reality. I guess I will pull through and be clean of cannabis for a while. It was my crutch and aid to get me here today and I thank the plant spirit for that. Yet, life cannot go on like that. Yet, I feel stuck and paralysed on what to do. I am scared. Scared of withdrawals. Scared of evenings alone wondering if I will sleep tonight staring at the wall in this room. I miss smoking with you together on the sofa, I feel your warm heart from a distance or up close, I miss your body next to mine in bed, my guardian. I miss smoking joints with you in nature, taking walks when things are more settled between us.
I can’t move too much out of the bedroom I have been stuck in for years. I don’t want to call it a prison, but I see myself as a bird trapped in a cage. I don’t want to go out. I’ve seen it all before. Yet I haven’t seen it truly through a clear lense of perception, without the ego’s trauma and pain associated with this area. I don’t know how long I will survive in this room. I just want to die and commit suicide.
I am severely depressed. I laugh my way through things to keep the energy raised and to raise others frequencys and not make them have to feel my pain energetically. I am anxious all the time, on edge, survival mode, I cannot relax. My mind is racing round and round and it won’t stop. I am sick of my own mind.
Have I ruined myself with this big stretcher in my ear and by covering myself with tattoos? Why did I do this? To cope with reality? To feel pain to feel something? To design my body and do what I like? To express myself? Is it a combination of all? I wonder. I wonder what it would be like to be pure, bare naked skin. I love it all, yet doubts have entered my mind. I have always gone to the extreme with things since a young child, I had to have all in the collection, all the lipsticks, all the dolls, all the articles, all the knowledge, all the whatever. I always go full pelt. I could channel that in other ways.
I feel sick. I hate my body, I wish it was skin and bone. Yet I love it at the same time. You can love something and hate something at the same time right? I love my curves, my breasts, my petite size and my smile yet I have so much self hatred starting from a young girl who learned to hate herself, who thought she was fat and ugly. She took on the projections of others. I still carry it with me to this day. Yet that was far from the truth.
I am destaught at what happened yesterday. That pushed me to my limits. It was hurtful and inconsiderate. It was extreme when I only wanted to go back. So so painful, my body and mind are scared with bruises of pain. My whole being aches. It happened but it didn’t have to happen. I had to go back, things were not right, things that happened were not right. I can put it behind me, like I do, but is it suppressing me? I can’t even cry about it as my being won’t let me. One of the hardest things I will say is not being able to cry ever. To cry is a release. I cannot cry and I feel the pressure stored up inside my being and it won’t come out. I had a panic attack last night, same time as you, I guess I’m addicted to you and felt bizarre without you near me. What happened was unnecessary and childish. Why? I’m sick man, that’s my excuse. Just drive.
I slept seven hours, woke up ate lettece and grapes, my daily diet as everything other than a few foods makes me sick. I reported and took care of my plants all the while sucifial thoughts rattled my mind. I washed, I washed all my clothes, I listened to a few videos and songs. I smoked cigarettes whilst reading wordpress posts. I love gaining knowledge through others, I love reading posts and learning new ideas and such. I debated about killing myself. I had a talk with someone who used to run a mental health centre in the city, it helped and grounded me a bit, but I am lost. I feel I am going round in circles.
The world is a strange place now. I see what is going to happen, people are numbed down and think things will go back to “normal.” “THEY” don’t care a bit about you, they want you for what you offer, your life energy, they feed off you. The world will never be the same again. What the fuck is going on, I can’t quite believe it. Disgusting and lies and bullshit. It’s all a play and grand show. The curtains are falling down and we will all see our whole lives were a lie and joke.
What the fuck do I do now? I’ve spent a whole year and more trying to heal myself and haven’t gotten anywhere. The NHS is shit. Therapy doesn’t really work or give me any coping strategies or ways to see the trauma I have endured. People let me down to the point where I don’t trust anyone. I don’t even trust my own parents. I have scars all over my being. I even tried freezing cold cyrotherpay on my body, supplements, techniques etc. I’m so tired and bored now. I’m grinding to a holt. If nothing changes I am gone. It will be over. No more pain. Never to be heard from again. Parents will be sad, a couple others and that’s it, moving on and now it’s 2040, my remembrance will be of a struggling girl who was trying to save herself only thought of occasionally. My grave will be deserted and muddy. Please burn my ashes and sprinkle them in places I had new experiences. What do I do now?
I am dreading every moment of every second of every millisecond.
I feel ghostly, terrified, petrified, lost, confused, mentally bruised, flat, dead, no mood, seeing tracers of past movements for three seconds, numbed, suppressed, blurry, vision blurry. Dear God am I really fucked?
Death obsesses me. Its my way of finding relief from this pain. I cannot think of any other relief or release.
Pure misery. Pure deadness.
How can I grow? How can I make friends? How can I walk long distances again? How can I write that book? How do I come off pharmaceuticals? Where do I look for support now that I have exhausted my resources? How can I ever feel my body again? How can I be present again? When will this acid burning all over my body end? When will I remember things again? When will I feel again? When will I think again? When will I feel any emotion again? When will I be free again? When will I feel, smell, taste and see properly again? When can I ever enjoy my human existence and experience again? When will I see that sparkle in my eye again?
With so much to spill out of my mind I now smoke a cigarette, do what I will, pray, lay in my bed in despair, in pieces, in agony staring at the same wall I have stared at for years and years. Then I pray I sleep. If not, if insomnia kicks in I am fucking out, not again please not again. Please don’t whip me, the devilish reality. Please don’t hurt me. Please stop God. Please make this all stop. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do it.. Stop torturing me? Did I really do that bad in a past life? Did I bring this upon myself? Was it circumstances? It was all me?
One day this bird will have the cage door opened onto the universe and its wings will spread wide, the little blackbird will turn into a condor, a Peruvian Condor sweeping the terrains of the Amazon rainforest. *dreams over*.
Long story short. I HATE my existence. PAIN is all I know. From one pain to the next, onto another pain and then another. On and on it goes.
If only our society was not so young in soul, if only euthanasia was a possibility. I’d apply straight away, no second thoughts, bye bye.
Take care, may you dream sweet and enjoy the existence you have, its so fleeting, in a blink of an eye you will be on your deathbed looking back. What really mattered? Go give your loved fellow humans a hug and look at trees, go enjoy the body God gifted you, enjoy it for me, for I cannot experience life like you, pain.
Have a good life,
People may not always tell you how they feel about you, but they will show you. They will show you through body language, through their tone of voice, they will show you who they are through their smile and laugh. They will show you through their eyes, the eyes never lie. Eyes are the doorway to the soul. When you are neutral and in a non-judgemental state, a calm centre, you will feel the energy of the person. The more you know yourself, the more you can discern someones energy. Be non-judgmentally open. Notice how they make you feel.. that was the energy being transferred to you.
Ask questions… Learn how to feel a person. Be in your heart space to feel someone else’s… they will reveal their motives and intentions.
Getting hooked means getting caught up in thinking and losing touch with what is happening outside of our minds. When we get hooked by unwanted thoughts it is as though they push us around or bully us, like a critical coach who stands on the sidelines giving harsh feedback.
Getting unhooked means stepping back from our minds and experiencing our thoughts without evaluating them, trying to change them, or pushing them away. That is, paying attention to the experience of having the thoughts, rather than focusing on their meaning (for example, “there must be something wrong with me).
That doesn’t mean you have to like or want the thought. It is more to do with acknowledging that you are having the thought and that pushing it away may not have been very helpful. The more you resist, the more the thought persists.
The shaman I am working with journeyed to the spirit of fibromyalgia recently as we wanted to find out how I could be helped and what is going on on a metaphysical level with fibromyalgia.
Fibromyalgia is a disorder characterized by widespread musculoskeletal pain accompanied by fatigue, sleep, memory and mood issues. Researchers believe that fibromyalgia amplifies painful sensations by affecting the way your brain processes pain signals. Basically, it feels like hot acid burning all over my body 24/7 brought on by many theories circulating – trauma, stress, infection.
The shaman journeyed into another realm of existence and said he saw a castle, a castle with traps all around it and a draw bridge. Inside the castle the shaman found a man wrapped totally and suffocating in bandages; he was wrapped in total fear. ABSOLUTE FEAR.
The man would not reveal anything. The only way to get through to him was to surround him with love, shower him with love. With that, the bandages started to unravel themselves. That’s all he found out…..