Not sure what to say, or if I can

I can't tell people. I can't speak up. I can't open up now...

It's that same mode all over again; being trapped so deeply within myself that I can scream so loudly, only to have it rebound from my inner walls back at me, and trap me in a net of hellish noise.

I do not want to be here right now. Let me tell you something about being on like 16 meds a day: it sucks. It sucks a lot. Especially considering I'm not stable, despite the fact that this is the best cocktail of medications I've ever been on. Fuck, fuck, fuck, and I'm not even anywhere close to resolving my health problems. In fact, multiple can never be resolved according to science as we thus know it.

There's a pattern I tend to follow, which is when I get depressed, I close off more and more, little by little, until I'm so trapped inside, I can't ask for help no matter how much I need it. For example, I can't tell anybody I'm suicidal.

I feel so hopeless right now. It doesn't matter if I look backwards, concentrate on the moment, or look forward... it's all darkness. I don't want to be here. At times like these, there's nothing worse than being trapped inside of your mind.

I have a lot of ways I'm fucked... I used to self-injure (still have inclinations), I used to abuse a shit ton of substances as a coping mechanism (I probably still would if I had access), I have done anything and EVERYTHING I could think of to shut my mind down when this has happened previously.
I'm so dangerously close to giving up and withdrawing, it's not even funny.

Nobody realizes what's constantly running through my head. Could you imagine having thoughts of suicide almost every day, almost the whole day? That's how it used to be for me... it's not as bad now but it's still not good. It doesn't help that I have disassociation issues. Many times, nothing feels real. Not this place, not you, not me... nothing. It doesn't feel like it matters in any way if I live or die. I guess that's the truth for me, most of the time, so the only reason I submit myself to the pain of life is through some sort of neurotic masochism that I don't even want. Why do I even bother?

Regression... if people knew I was depressed, it wouldn't even matter. Nothing matters. I'd rather not go back to the psych. ward again, though... been there too many times. How pathetic is it to be a failure at suicide?

So somebody's trying to talk to me right now. Yeah, I can't break out. As if I could say how incredibly fucked over I am right now. I become very cynical like this. Very agitated at everything. The only thing that can help at times like these are medications... in other words, nothing right now.

Thoughts of suicide won't get out of my head. I'm trying to distract myself, but with intrusive thoughts, it just doesn't work that way. I've gone to such lengths as bashing my head against concrete to try to make my thoughts stop. It's that bad.

I've had suicidal thoughts my whole life. As I child, I used to speak with a friend each summer at a get together, and speak freely about what our ideal ways to die would be. My whole life is bullshit. I want to give up so badly right now, and often I don't even know why I bother holding on. People praise me, saying, "You're so strong." and things of that nature, but no, I'm not. It's simple really. If I'm not dead, I'm alive. The reason I'm not dead is because I'm alive. That's it.

Everything seems so fake and superficial. To withdraw or not to withdraw? That is the question... I'm not with it at all right now.

A non-stance

 Not imposing standards isn't immoral, because morals aren't transcendent. In fact, if everybody died tomorrow, it wouldn't be *bad* objectively. Paint things however we will, there is no objective right way. We can follow our moral compass or not. We can hurt ourselves or not. We can heal or destroy ourselves, but in the perspective of the universe, nothing is lost. To argue one way or another is an attempt at social manipulation, unconscious or not, but that is also neutral. Disorder is in the eyes of the beholder

I'm saying there isn't any point in imposing
2 hours ago · Like

Jacqueline Guerrero there is also no point in not imposing.

you think in terms of our society, but I am thinking in terms of the bigger picture. the reality exists beyond our ego-centric bubbles, be they personal, societal, national, tribal, etc. The things I say don't have to be taken one way or another, but it's very dependent on the light you take it from. That being said, it is the way that you interpret it that shows your projected values.

I wasn't speaking about intelligence. There's no significant of my words to yours. It's amusing to me how people ties things together when they have no value. I'm a psychology/pre-law(philosophy) major. I like carrots. I have a cat. It's about as relevant. 

 I'm here because sometimes I allow life to be a game to me. It's not all of the time, but I don't feel compelled to be serious 100%. Flexibility feels liberating to me. I'm not here to make a point. I'm not here to argue anything. I don't talk to impose here, I talk to observe responses. It's quite amusing and interesting to me, especially on a thread that is supposed to revolve around the idea of proper intellect, because I'm not taking a proper stance. You may say I ought to, but you know this is conditional. You've seen me argue in other posts.
xD This is me just chilling out. That's why what you two have been saying has not affected me. It's as productive as arguing with the air. But just because it has no purpose, no given destination, and yet...

"You think it's futile? Ah, but futility is a necessity. A system without futility is very vulnerable. The key in opening a new gate is futility. Just because there's no use for it, is it futile? Sometime's the existence itself is enough."
- Mia, .hack//

Arguing with the air leads to unconscious inspiration.

there are different ways of looking at things. each concept has a bubble, and there are different societies that things may apply to different, because they're at different levels along in development. I was being cryptic, but it's hard to gauge how specific I have to be for people to follow at the same time

I've really actually taken several classes on morality and ethics xD I don't feel like they don't matter. personally, I honestly agree that it'd be better for us, as a society, to not put such a price tag on education, and frankly, whether the government likes it or not, because of the internet, we're going to experience a coup d'etat by the people in terms of knowledge. we don't have to pay anymore to learn.


 I'm very well aware of those who would oppose reform. Some have laid claim that the global elite control us in ways that society is barely aware of. When I am presented with a new conundrum, I assume a stance of skepticism, as I must confirm something for myself in order to assimilate it, which is exactly what has landed me in the position I am in, so over the course of years, I have been avidly researching, as throughout my life, I have been in the pursuit of truth. What I have come to realize is that our culture is extending beyond the limits of our national border, as we become more integrated as one collective species, that though the values they have attempted to impose upon us through conditioning had taken hold and still do have hold of many people's minds in wats not quite conscious to then yet, there is mounting pressure, with its build being pushed by members of many societies, many classes, and even those in the education system they had been attempting to indoctrinate us to for the sake of keeping tabs. Essentially, we have a system that works to strip us of liberty and leave us bound to a system financially with the intention of putting us so far in debt, we sell our freedom. So few stop to question things so simple as "Why am I consciously choosing to put myself in debt for several years with interest I can't anticipate for the sake of a job I may not necessarily be hired for. Even those with degrees are becoming more enraged and lashing put against the system. At my university, teachers spoke out against the jurisdiction they were restrained by within their own lectures. Things such as memetics are leading to rapid evolution of though and increasingly, we are hearing outcries for revolution from not just the level of the personally disadvantaged, but from the level of those who exist between those in poverty, and those who are elite. They're the ones who have enough of a bird's eye view to see what is going on below Nd enough proximity to understand to at least some extent what is occurring above. The most integral aspect to the coming reform will be the product of human empathy. It is argued those at the top are frequently sociopaths. Even Hare and Zimbardo, the person who created the screening for psychopath/wrote "Snakes in Suits" and the man who ran the infamous Stanford Prison Experiment" which therefore led to the cause of the darkest ages of humanity's history, I.E. ww2 and such, and the publisher of "The Lucifer Effect" have directly acknowledged the corruption that presides above. Sec, logging in on comp lol

 I have been lining up dominoes non-linearly for years. I am waiting now. When the right moment comes, all it will take is a flick, as we approach that event horizon. I am a strategist regarding people, and I know just what needs to happen. Soon, everybody will. Do you have a plan?

God fucking dammit

I'm sick of social isolation. The connections I have are just superficial right now. I doubt she even knows, despite the fact she's been in withdrawal. Does she feel as worthless as I do right now? I can't help but wonder...

Who is she? You didn't ask, but I'm can better I'm damn well going to tell you.

My best friend, the person I love most in this who world right now, and the single person who matters to me enough to not kill myself and put an end to my sad excuse of an existence. She's been sick though... so sick, and I know she experiences depression and intrusive thoughts like I do. I also wonder if, had she been given the capacity, she would have killed herself by now, or at least attempted. How long has she been in recluse by now? I can't say, because my sense of time is so shitty, but I know it's been far too long. I miss her smile and laughter. I miss the way her face would light up as I made her laugh. She may not believe it about herself, but believe she's so beautiful in so many ways. I don't know if she realizes to what extent she matters to me, and even if I had the chance to speak to her directly, she's probably such an empty shell right now, it couldn't reach her...

She's suffered the death of a close relative, blood sickness, a surgery to get her catheter taken out so a biopsy could be performed because she's been so sick, another surgery to replace it, and then here uncle got thrombitis, her aunt has 3 anneurisms, and her mother might have pneumonia. I have no doubt in my mind that she is condemning herself in ways her poor soul doesn't deserve. She was born with a hemorrhage of her cerebellum, effective paralyzing her waste-down for life, which is why she's on a permanent catheter mounted above her bladder. I want to hug her so she could feel there is somebody there, somebody real, not just somebody she's been speaking with over the internet. No just something intangible, as if a dream. My dream had been to transfer to her university this next term, but that obviously won't happen happen now that I've been bedridden so long. I have a severe form of wasting syndrome I'm dealing with; essentially what final stage cancer patients experience. I would give anything to meet her. Even if it was at the expense of dying whenever she did, without her being bound to my health.



I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes in a panic attack, and know what she's going through, I see her, I see a flash of her situation. Whenever we next talk, I turn out to have been correct... it's definitely more complicated than that, and that'll belong somewhere in another paragraph.

These are the sorts of things I tell her:

After she had told me this:

"I have to do a certain amount of work per day or else I go to bed thinking I'm unlovable, lazy, useless, and if I do something wrong, then I think I'm unworthy of affection, and if I'm in that kind of mood (at least once daily) then I can't see any good qualities at all"

Jacqueline Guerrero
For better or for worse, I intend to be there for you throughout your hardships and triumphs. The dynamic qualities of a friendship are spawned through together overcoming the good and the bad, and such is the case that trust builds. My caring for you is a lot, regardless of what you think I should feel... regardless of how you perceive your own level of self-worth. I see you and I know it's scary. I feel when are suffering often; there's a link there that is inexplicable, but I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. Our friendship has given my life meaning.

If I hadn't met you... I don't know where I'd be or if I'd be, and I don't mean that in a hyperbolic fashion. I know you feel my pain too, frequently (regardless of your self-doubt, I see it reflected in your eyes), and that mutually scares the shit out of me, but I know... with absolute certainty that because I know you, I can never be alone in this place again. Though I have an aversion towards my personal feelings, you have saved that dying aspect. It wasn't completely single-sided... it took faith on my parent, however, without you it wouldn't have happened. Without either of us being who we are, it wouldn't have happened, regardless of your intended bridging shenanigans Escapism doesn't work that way

Maybe it does seem overly effusive on my part, maybe it's scary. We certainly both have trauma, though the perception may be to certain extents... there is a connection. A connection I had no control over... led me into the life of a very valuable friend whose companionship, regardless of how selfish saying his may be, I would not trade for anything. My faith in you allows me to counter my thoughts and push through the fear, despite being frozen. You've brought me to life in the respect that the part of me I had essentially killed is now... a part of me again. Your fears and doubts regarding misinterpretation are like my own. You may know what I need, despite me denying it, but I also know what you need, despite denying it, and... saying these things is what I do for myself, too. It's not out of any form of necessity, but it makes me feel happy to force once in my life feel I am able to safely convey them without judgement.

I know you get depressed like I do. My energy level goes to shit as well, but I also know that despite being an introvert, even if nothing is said, sometimes (despite denying it as much as externally and consciously possible) having a friend by your side, someone who takes you as you are, accepts you, and still loves you, is a blessing. Even it could be considered life-saving/changing. You do not have to be here for me all of the time, but what I sincerely hope is that you do not hide for my sake... hide your smile, your sadness, your pain, or things of that nature. I have some other abilities I haven't shared with you, but it kind of makes it impossible.

You have helped me resolve some of my underlying shame issues, and goddammit, I'm going to be here to help you resolve some of mind. Even if it seems I am talking to the wall, unless you downright tell me my caring is not something in any way beneficial, I'm going to be relentless, not for your sake, but for my own. Finally I am able to be authentically myself... in all of my emotional and mushy glory  And you know what? With you, I enjoy every moment of it. I will assume, until you tell me, that my words are not in vain, even if you aren't reciprocating, and I take no tabs, because in my mind, heart, spirit, you owe me absolutely nothing, while I owe you absolutely nothing. The only reason I do this is out of love. It's not normal, not what was natural, but what is normal and natural may not always be best for a person. Once my heart is set like this, all else be damned. I'm a stubborn son-of-a-bitch

I love you now, and if at any point I truly love somebody, I will love them always. Not everybody can make it that far into my heart but I know, even if you don't trust yourself, I have absolute faith you'll be doing your best as you know it at all time, not with the intention of hurting me.
Perhaps for the first time, hiding physically does not hide your pain from someone you're not in close proximity... so if you need help, I ask you that, even if you do fear, please do not succumb if you can so help it.

I'll never forget having specifically been somebody's reason to smile, so even through the tough times, that bit of you will remain. I will work on being more honest, myself... truly honest. God knows we both have a long way to go, but we will overcome this, I swear.
Even if you didn't acknowledge this message at all, it changes nothing.  Even if you're too tired to respond or reciprocate in this particular form, please trust me when I say that karma is taking care of itself....

These happy memories are permanently replacing the bad ones. This is the difference that people see. no longer am I the girl you initially knew. Now I am very much more alive and in touch with myself. And it brings them joy and hope too
~~~~
Saying it means nothing to her if she doesn't believe it.

I meant it then, I mean it now, I will always mean it.
God, give me the strength to make it through so I can be sure to make it true...

damn me if I don't.

So little endurance left to press on when meaning is absent, and love is a word that becomes stripped of whatever allure it had prior to the then future and now past... What, then, have we been left with?
Momentum crashing through the hollow world, fragmenting as if it had never existed in the first place...

Personal issues

 I don't know what, exactly, but I know it needs to happen. I have so many emotions and thoughts circling around, it's dizzying. I guess that's what my form of writers block is .-. I don't feel like typing perfectly correctly right now. I'm just going to slack off on this.

I've been under and extreme amount of stress lately, and it's hard to say why. It's personal insecurities, I guess, but a combination of factors. I have no clue why my moods are shooting straight to hell at the rate that they are, though... no idea. I joked with my therapist that it's stress withdrawal, and adverse reaction because I've had so much stress throughout my life that when it toned down a bit, I became unstable. It was funny because she brought it up.

I've been having to deal with my health issues, and I guess that's stressful, especially when there's so much I don't know. I'm realizing more that it's possible I have more than one autoimmune disorder, which would make a lot of sense, but be horrible. Very horrible. Life really doesn't cut me any slack, it just seems like every year things become more difficult. I really don't like where things are heading, I mean, when you think about it, the amount of shit I already have to tolerate is remarkable. 3 types of internal bleeding now, hashimoto's thyroid autoimmune disorder, polycystic ovarian disorder, I do have a cyst, I have a nodule on the lumbar area of my spine, my hormones are fucked up, I'm dealing with mental issues...



So despite these things, why do I write? Why now of all times?

I used to be a compulsive writer, people have been nagging me forever to write something, and I am hoping, for at least this next month, it will put my mind somewhat as ease as I deal with the hell spreading from my insides out. When all you see is darkness, better, perhaps, to escape into fantasy, where hope isn't just wishful thinking, but your total reality.

^-- Sincerely,
The state of my mind right now.

To kill or not to kill? That is the question.

I'm going to put this frankly:
when I was younger, I had thoughts of killing my parents. There is no way in FUCK I'm telling them that, either. It wasn't without reason, however.

You know those parents who don't allow you to have water, food, or go to the bathroom without eating? The ones who punish you for crying? The ones who, should you make any slight mistake, beat the shit out of you and destroy anything you hold dear? The ones who are absent, almost fully 6 days a week, only to come home and enter your sanctum; the only place left in the house where you don't feel your life is in danger? The ones who beat you with a belt and threaten you in ways you wouldn't imagine, that leave you so traumatized, you are left in a state of disassociation so bad, you fall into a coma?

Oops. Spoiled that one, didn't I? I didn't think you would, though. This is something I've been alone in terms of for a long time. Of course this is only vaguely touching the surface. The trauma, within this text, is bound to resurface... I dread that period in time when it does, but it is inevitable. As inevitable as people making memes about stupid shit like My Little Pony. That show isn't even worthy of proper recognition from me.
I tend to go on tangents sometimes, but you'll get used to it. There are no rules here: not in my mind, not in the reality of this journey. Fuck the police. Grammar Nazis: quit being bigot fascists. There's more depth to a person than their ability to spell correctly and conform to the classic rules of English grammar.

Am I really that much of an asshole? Maybe. To be honest, I have no idea. It's an interesting thing to be so disconnected from your sense of self that you not only doubt the reality surrounding you is less than a dream, but that you, yourself, consist of empty space.

No, I'm not pmsing, I have bi-polar disorder and am a partial misanthropist. Ask me again later, and I may be a spiritual guru, saying the answer to the universe is love. Ask me yet again, and I'll say being nothing is the same as being a criminal, and I should experience something worse than simple damnation.

I don't fear hell, because throughout my life, this is what I've understood this place to be.

When you have lost everybody who was close to you, not through your behavior, but life circumstances or malicious behavior, or death, there may this tendency to become a little cynical. Hmm... I wonder why THAT may be.

Oh look, I went on a tangent again? I should tell you more about what I've been doing when I stepped aside from writing this bull:

In terms of my book, I'm about I'm 5,000 words behind, but I'm tired. 5,000 words isn't that much when you're rambling because you damn well feel like it, and no other reason but that. I think I may increase my daily quote to about 5,000 words a day. That's not that bad. 150,000 words by the end of the month. Approximately 525 pages or (likely) more. That's not hard when I'm used to writing 150 a week, from back when I used to engage in writing, sparsely. I'm about 7,500 words behind, as of tomorrow, assuming I want to meet the 150,000 goal, but that's not significant, imo. I'm 100% certain I would at the very, very least meet the 100,000 mark. The books may or may not be shitty, but oh well. they'll just have to deal with it. It's not like I really have anything better to do with my life than just sit and ramble as if I'm talking to myself in public or something. Not that I ever do that, but it kind of sounds like fun. Not sure what would come out of my mouth, but I'm sure it'd at least amuse some people. Or get the attention of a school counselor. there's a 50-50 chance, there, excluding the possibility of both, I imaging. It's not as if I don't have >9,000 things spinning through my mind at any given second, anyways, it's just that nobody really cares to know. I don't care, though. Confidential: burn after reading.

Memory wipe, MK-ultra, aliens, double-think; hell, maybe they're all the same thing. Can't forget the lizard people, of course. Many conspiracy theorists would be very unsettled. More likely, they'll be offended by the rest of what I'd have to say about that.

Not my problem. I've already thoroughly establish I have a propensity towards being an asshole with an inclination towards misanthropy.

Ooooooh, look at me. I'm such a rebel, I used an internet acronym in a novel. Take that English teachers!
At least I hadn't assimilated their soul-stripping dogma and prostituted myself as a whore of classic academia that imposed standards which would have left me, without my resiliency, creatively crippled. omgwtfusor00dnotevnusingcapstodistinguishwhatyou'resayingwhileusingacronyms. At least I gave you an apostrophe.
Bitches love apostrophes.

Back on track, so how did I result the conundrum of my fear of being a psychopath? Welp:Yup, I feel much better. No ocd harassment. I know I'm not a psychopath; I know I have a fear of being one because I share -some- commonalities, but I forget that to share some commonalities with any given disorder does not qualify you. We all have moments when we are more callous than others, and that's human, but I recognize the difference between me and a psychopath is that I feel shame at the thought of the things I have done. It was the shame that compelled me towards self-disclosure. I felt fear, I felt remorse, and I have strived to become a better person because of those things. It's a large part of what got me to where I am today, so even though those things may have occurred in the past, I acknowledge it is the present that defines my future, and it is in the present that I make the changes that redefine my self-concept. If I were a psychopath, I would have no concern. Being honest in this case would not benefit me because it would put me in a position for you to keep an eye on me even more, and honestly, I think that's a good thing. If I overlook something, or if I make a mistake, I would like to know. I just have to learn that my flaws are not who I am, but qualities that I possess that can be changed or helped. I have to remember how much I have changed for the better.

That is all.~~~
...for the time-being, to say the least.

Intention and Reality Have a Love Hate Relationship

What if... I wrote a book... called... ambien adventures? And the whole book was just filled with pages and pages of me rambling while on my nightly dosage of ambien, with no short term memory, probably delirious, and rambling about electric bear arms and the meaning of the universe being in the caverns of the carpet?
--
...that was my initial intention, but I have this little problem. I sleep type. This is what actually happened:

So, under the influence of ambien, this was my first attempt at writing:
Night one, eh? What should I expect to manifest out of the deotee dead memories are haunringmrwrww
i HAVE the weirdest sensation tonight as I try to thinksas
~~~~~~
... yeah, I don't think I'm going to do that again. Apparently I didn't stay very task-oriented.
--

Things don't always go according to plan.

This isn't the first time I've ended up sleep typing on ambien, but I can say I've experienced much worse. One night, after experiencing several traumatic things sequentially, I did something I never would have thought was possible: I attempted to kill myself while my conscious mind was sleeping.
The only thing I can say to that is, wow. I really must have hated myself at the time, although it wasn't my first attempt.

See, something you're going to find out about me is that my mind doesn't work in order. These things you read, they're going to reflect to you the way the mind of somebody clinically diagnosed with the curse and blessing of several mental illnesses.
I have several ways I'm fucked up, including, but not limited to: Bi-polar (Not Otherwise Specified, Ultradian Cycling and Psychotic Depression), Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Panic Disorder, Convulsive Disorder (with at least two forms of seizures), Attention Deficit Disorder (how that works with OCD eludes me, but somehow it does), Schizoid Personality Disorder, and I'm on the autism spectrum.

The last part I completely rejected when my therapist suggested it.

That in itself means nothing. Nothing to you, nothing to me, nothing to anybody; not without the back story. I'm going to take you on a journey through my mind... someplace that doesn't exist in heaven, nor hell, or even anywhere in between.

I'll warn you now: I've been through things such as substance abuse(more than fear and loathing), self-harm(not the attention whore variety, either), suicide attempts(so close, dammit), being 51-50'd and put on hold in the psychiatric ward several times, been homeless, and have been clinically dead at least a couple times. The things I've been through that led up to the event horizon that triggered this bullshit can be disturbing... I have PTSD for a reason, and I feel no obligation to hold back. I've held back my who fucking life; this is where I cut lose, no obligations, no strings attached. In fact, I don't give a fuck if you're reading this or not.

Maybe you want to see just what it's like, maybe you want to make sure you, yourself, are not crazy, maybe you (heaven forbid) relate, but this isn't for you. Quit being such a selfish bastard. Yeah I'm talking to you, reader. Why haven't you stopped reading this bull by now? I don't even.

But if you're still sticking around, then you're going to learn things that have never once escaped my mind and been known to the world, and very possibly, even to me. This will be a travel through the past, present, and future. I hope you enjoy your trip.

You see, people tend to think that the only warriors are the people who physically fight in a combat zone, attacking or defending a country for one reason or another; some willingly, some forced by their life situations, but they fail to realize that mental illness is, in many ways, very much the same. You'll come to see that war heroes are victims. These are some of the lame spoilers I'm giving you. Unfortunately it gets worse. Much worse. Try to keep up, and maybe you'll manage to find it. Maybe whatever would be hidden between the lines is not so hidden as one may think. Jerk. Yeah, I'm an asshole. Deal with it.

Welcome to my reality as I know it

Helen Keller

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Jacqueline Guerrero I know, Helen. it's just one of those nights. Sometimes I feel like no matter what I say or do, it doesn't matter. It's a lot like talking to a wall, and being disgusted at the rebounding echo, which I'm sure you can relate to at least to some degree. It's so hard to know people are suffering, people you care about, but either they aren't listening, or you cannot break through to them, for some reason or another. To feel isolated because you're different DOES hurt, I agree, but despite your disabilities, look at how much you've impacted the world... Through this page, you've allowed so many people to get things off of their chests that they had been holding in, because nobody cared, nobody would listen, and there was no outlet. It's hard when you have no support, but at least this page helps some people feel like they have some sort of belonging, somewhere, even if it is just venting or humor. It reminds that we aren't truly alone, somehow... Thank you for this. It may not have been your intentions through making this page, but that's the impact doing so has had.

This is my reality as I know. Rambling to some page based on Helen Keller that essentially serves as some form of socially networking rorchach test. If you think this is weird, then brace yourself, because the reality I experience is a lot more bizarre.