>> 6/19/2025
Out of the blue the other day I remembered one of the bands I used to listen to on repeat as a teenager and I've become a little bit re-obsessed with them. It's
The Used, for anyone who reads this that's interested, and they've inspired a deep sadness in me. It's not for myself, though, not directly at least. It's for my past self. Despite how my music taste has grown since then, some of these lyrics still hit pretty hard.
Like these, for example, from Liar Liar:
Liar, liar, house of fire
And the glass tastes messy chew it louder
Bet your tummy hurts you, you motherfucker
Mother never loved you
Father touched you with the hand of God
He's gripping tighter
Saying, "You will burn in hell, " they say
"You will burn in hell"
I complain a lot, but teen me was going through the most. I can't count how many times we were told we were the devil's child, that we were going to burn for how we existed and loved. It's hardly a unique story, but... I'm thinking about her. The way this song used to rip the heart right out of her chest.
I'm starting to remember a lot of things, actually. She feels so outside of me. She feels like she's seperate, another person. And she kind of is... in a way. I feel confused. And sad for her. How terrible it was to be trapped in that house, unable to leave, preached at daily. She truly felt hated by the only parent she had left. The only one we have left, I should say. I just feel sorry for her. Forbidden from having friends, forbidden from leaving, a burden and a nuisance.
Our first run-in with self harm was in 7th grade, she hid it with an arm band that had a cassette on it, the anxiety of being caught and punished permiated our entire existance until it healed. It never happened again because the fear was too much to bear. My mom would not have been kind, she would have made me even more miserable as punishment. Good thing she never knew.
One night, when I was much older (I think 18), my mom told me she was going to kill herself because of me and I had to call my sister for help. Years after that, maybe 5 years ago now, I said I wanted to die and she screamed at me for 4 hours straight, trapping me in my room until I physically pushed her out of my house. Then she proceeded to text me terrible things all night.
I guess things don't really change. I will always be her mistake, despite being the only kid she had on purpose. I wonder if dad would have hated me, too. I'll never know.
Out of the blue the other day I remembered one of the bands I used to listen to on repeat as a teenager and I've become a little bit re-obsessed with them. It's
The Used, for anyone who reads this that's interested, and they've inspired a deep sadness in me. It's not for myself, though, not directly at least. It's for my past self. Despite how my music taste has grown since then, some of these lyrics still hit pretty hard.
Like these, for example, from Liar Liar:
Liar, liar, house of fire
And the glass tastes messy chew it louder
Bet your tummy hurts you, you motherfucker
Mother never loved you
Father touched you with the hand of God
He's gripping tighter
Saying, "You will burn in hell, " they say
"You will burn in hell"
I complain a lot, but teen me was going through the most. I can't count how many times we were told we were the devil's child, that we were going to burn for how we existed and loved. It's hardly a unique story, but... I'm thinking about her. The way this song used to rip the heart right out of her chest.
I'm starting to remember a lot of things, actually. She feels so outside of me. She feels like she's seperate, another person. And she kind of is... in a way. I feel confused. And sad for her. How terrible it was to be trapped in that house, unable to leave, preached at daily. She truly felt hated by the only parent she had left. The only one we have left, I should say. I just feel sorry for her. Forbidden from having friends, forbidden from leaving, a burden and a nuisance.
Our first run-in with self harm was in 7th grade, she hid it with an arm band that had a cassette on it, the anxiety of being caught and punished permiated our entire existance until it healed. It never happened again because the fear was too much to bear. My mom would not have been kind, she would have made me even more miserable as punishment. Good thing she never knew.
One night, when I was much older (I think 18), my mom told me she was going to kill herself because of me and I had to call my sister for help. Years after that, maybe 5 years ago now, I said I wanted to die and she screamed at me for 4 hours straight, trapping me in my room until I physically pushed her out of my house. Then she proceeded to text me terrible things all night.
I guess things don't really change. I will always be her mistake, despite being the only kid she had on purpose. I wonder if dad would have hated me, too. I'll never know.
>> 6/17/2025
It's pretty obvious that a huge part of this identity crisis I'm currently dealing with is brought on by my current lack of access to hrt and my desperate desire to
escape dysphoria, but it's got me thinking really hard about myself and what it is I really want.
Sigil has not come forward to take control, it felt like she wanted to for a moment there, but it hasn't happened. I think I might have misread her intentions, because I still feel like I want to be a man most days. But I'm being poked at by new ideas of what kind of man I could potentially be.
It's pretty easy for someone like me to set up guidelines for myself and try to follow them, but oftentimes I don't set these guidelines up with what would make me happy in mind. Instead, what fuels them is what I think would make my life easier when interacting with the general public. I think in terms of 'okay, if I'm going to do this, what's the safest version I can be?' and for this it would be just some guy, y'know? Unassuming, able to pass as cis, not feminine, that way I don't pull anyones attention and I potentially avoid all kinds of trouble that might come my way from bigots.
The reason I do this is because my home state is Oklahoma and I grew up in one of the most religious towns I've ever been to. I feel like that says everything I need to say about that, lol.
However, to get to the point, what if I'm not 'just some guy'. Well, I'm certainly not right now, like I've said before, it's a little hard for most people to tell what I am and my soft face tends to make most strangers lean toward 'she' when referring to me despite my scruff. Some don't risk referring to me with any pronouns at all and they nervously dance around it. It's impossible for me to follow my own safety guidelines, and instead of living life anyway, I keep trying to put it on pause until my transformation is complete. I became recluse and embarrassed of myself in this weird partially-transitioned state. I have trouble owning my own story and who I am. It wasn't part of my plan.
But what if I just let that shit go and took ownership of my story? What will happen to me then? I think I'm really scared of the possibilities... Because I can't predict them. I can't predict how I'll be treated if I put myself out there in any real way, or if I try to make friends. My immediate assumption is that the worst would happen, of course, but if I don't take any risks then I can't reap any rewards.
So... Maybe it's time I stopped trying to set up a safety fence to box myself in with. Maybe it's time I meshed with Sigil to make someone whole. And that person won't be what most people expect when you say you're male, but... I dunno. If that's okay for other people to be, why not me? I just need to reach out and take it for myself, like others have, and see what happens. Because whoever I become, it will certainly make me happier than making myself so small that I become nothing at all.
It's pretty obvious that a huge part of this identity crisis I'm currently dealing with is brought on by my current lack of access to hrt and my desperate desire to
escape dysphoria, but it's got me thinking really hard about myself and what it is I really want.
Sigil has not come forward to take control, it felt like she wanted to for a moment there, but it hasn't happened. I think I might have misread her intentions, because I still feel like I want to be a man most days. But I'm being poked at by new ideas of what kind of man I could potentially be.
It's pretty easy for someone like me to set up guidelines for myself and try to follow them, but oftentimes I don't set these guidelines up with what would make me happy in mind. Instead, what fuels them is what I think would make my life easier when interacting with the general public. I think in terms of 'okay, if I'm going to do this, what's the safest version I can be?' and for this it would be just some guy, y'know? Unassuming, able to pass as cis, not feminine, that way I don't pull anyones attention and I potentially avoid all kinds of trouble that might come my way from bigots.
The reason I do this is because my home state is Oklahoma and I grew up in one of the most religious towns I've ever been to. I feel like that says everything I need to say about that, lol.
However, to get to the point, what if I'm not 'just some guy'. Well, I'm certainly not right now, like I've said before, it's a little hard for most people to tell what I am and my soft face tends to make most strangers lean toward 'she' when referring to me despite my scruff. Some don't risk referring to me with any pronouns at all and they nervously dance around it. It's impossible for me to follow my own safety guidelines, and instead of living life anyway, I keep trying to put it on pause until my transformation is complete. I became recluse and embarrassed of myself in this weird partially-transitioned state. I have trouble owning my own story and who I am. It wasn't part of my plan.
But what if I just let that shit go and took ownership of my story? What will happen to me then? I think I'm really scared of the possibilities... Because I can't predict them. I can't predict how I'll be treated if I put myself out there in any real way, or if I try to make friends. My immediate assumption is that the worst would happen, of course, but if I don't take any risks then I can't reap any rewards.
So... Maybe it's time I stopped trying to set up a safety fence to box myself in with. Maybe it's time I meshed with Sigil to make someone whole. And that person won't be what most people expect when you say you're male, but... I dunno. If that's okay for other people to be, why not me? I just need to reach out and take it for myself, like others have, and see what happens. Because whoever I become, it will certainly make me happier than making myself so small that I become nothing at all.
>> 6/14/2025
It's 10:30 pm, I'm drunk. I looked up some people I haven't thought about since high school. Why did I do that. Who the hell am I. Who the fuck have I turned into.
They're all trailer trash and I'm still worse.
I mean it's expected. Everything makes sense, but at the same time I had such different plans for myself. I'm reminded of the time my mom made a snide remark saying my childhood best friend would undoubtedly turn out just like her mother. As a kid I couldn't see it, here we are though. I saw her, she did turn into her mother. And I have turned into a wreck. It was all written in the stars or something, I'm just ignorant to it all, I guess. I feel sick. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck.
What happened to me. What happened. I tried so hard. I tried. I failed. I failed!! Oh, we're all so surprised. Christ. I'm so upset. No one from my past should ever see me. At least I hope they never do. I failed on every front. I turned into what I was always destined to. I never escaped. How humiliating.
I feel like I'm about to lose it for the very last time. What's this all about? What's it all for? Why be born if it's just gonna be like this?
Teenage me would hate this shit, she'd be so fucking upset with me. What the fuck have I done.
It's 10:30 pm, I'm drunk. I looked up some people I haven't thought about since high school. Why did I do that. Who the hell am I. Who the fuck have I turned into.
They're all trailer trash and I'm still worse.
I mean it's expected. Everything makes sense, but at the same time I had such different plans for myself. I'm reminded of the time my mom made a snide remark saying my childhood best friend would undoubtedly turn out just like her mother. As a kid I couldn't see it, here we are though. I saw her, she did turn into her mother. And I have turned into a wreck. It was all written in the stars or something, I'm just ignorant to it all, I guess. I feel sick. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck.
What happened to me. What happened. I tried so hard. I tried. I failed. I failed!! Oh, we're all so surprised. Christ. I'm so upset. No one from my past should ever see me. At least I hope they never do. I failed on every front. I turned into what I was always destined to. I never escaped. How humiliating.
I feel like I'm about to lose it for the very last time. What's this all about? What's it all for? Why be born if it's just gonna be like this?
Teenage me would hate this shit, she'd be so fucking upset with me. What the fuck have I done.
>> 6/13/2025
I saw a video of myself from 2009 yesterday evening. I was 14 at the time. I was wearing a DC jacket, looking emo as hell with my raccoon eyes and arm bands. I wish I could
remember being her. She got her belly button pierced, and we still have it to this day. Right now we have a belly ring in that's got a cool bat charm on it. I know she still exists in this vacant head... Somewhere.
Sometimes I wish things had turned out different. Sometimes I wish I was palatable and less strange. Boring. An easy, unremarkable existance. I want to know what that's like. I want to see beauty in the world instead of everything always moving right through me like I'm a ghost because I'm afraid of experiencing it. I never quite connect, even when I really care.
Day before yesterday I went to the doctor and the clinic was situated near the harbor. I got to watch a giant cruise ship dock, it was so impressive to see, I'd never seen anything like it before in person, and I love boats and ships, but the experience hardly made a mark on my being. It should have been so exciting to me, but it was just... Kinda cool.
I want to take care of myself better. I want to love and persue things even if there's 'no point' to it. I want to look in the mirror and recognize my own face for once.
I got some medication on that trip to the doctor, I suppose we'll see if it helps me. It's for my physical ailments, not my mental ones, but I know for certain the two are tied. I'm hoping for the best, even though it feels so scary to do that.
I saw a video of myself from 2009 yesterday evening. I was 14 at the time. I was wearing a DC jacket, looking emo as hell with my raccoon eyes and arm bands. I wish I could
remember being her. She got her belly button pierced, and we still have it to this day. Right now we have a belly ring in that's got a cool bat charm on it. I know she still exists in this vacant head... Somewhere.
Sometimes I wish things had turned out different. Sometimes I wish I was palatable and less strange. Boring. An easy, unremarkable existance. I want to know what that's like. I want to see beauty in the world instead of everything always moving right through me like I'm a ghost because I'm afraid of experiencing it. I never quite connect, even when I really care.
Day before yesterday I went to the doctor and the clinic was situated near the harbor. I got to watch a giant cruise ship dock, it was so impressive to see, I'd never seen anything like it before in person, and I love boats and ships, but the experience hardly made a mark on my being. It should have been so exciting to me, but it was just... Kinda cool.
I want to take care of myself better. I want to love and persue things even if there's 'no point' to it. I want to look in the mirror and recognize my own face for once.
I got some medication on that trip to the doctor, I suppose we'll see if it helps me. It's for my physical ailments, not my mental ones, but I know for certain the two are tied. I'm hoping for the best, even though it feels so scary to do that.
>> 6/10/2025
I've been alone in my head since making my last journal entry. Yesterday I had some kind of episode and freaked it pretty hard. The world feels like it's always ending. What's the point of life if
the world always feels that way? And how do other people escape this feeling I wonder.
Simon and I were talking about the past and I brought up that my mom used to bully me. Thinking back on it, she really was channelling the creulty of a teenager at her big age of 40 to 50-something for my entire childhood. She always used to make fun of my interests, and it didn't matter what those interests were. If I was rebellious, she obviously hated that, but if I tried to please her then I was pathetic for trying to garner her favor. I couldn't do anything right. Her favorite thing was to tell me that my interests were unoriginal and I was only interested because someone else was and I wanted to be them. She humiliated me with this kind of thing constantly.
I could go on and on about the ways she made me feel like a waste of air, but the main point here is that she used humiliation to do this alongside her anger. And I think this has something to do with why the world is always ending. It's hard to feel like good things can or are allowed to happen to you without consequence when you're ashamed of your very existance.
It makes me want to lash out and impose myself on everyone out of spite. Force the world to deal with me, so to speak. But I've done that before, and eventually I always get sick with shame to the point bile rises in my throat and I duck away into the dark. And then I do it again. My own personal hellish loop of vying for attention and then suffering under the weight of recieving it. While also revelling in it, too. Because it's attention, and any shame I feel for it is deserved and I should be feeling it. It's the way things should be, it's the way they always were.
But, like I said, the world is ending. I don't feel like I belong here. My interactions with the general public put me at risk of being found out. For what? I don't want to know. Or do I? Part of me wants to push that boundary and get angry with the way things are. Another part just wants to hide in the dark and rest. Another wants to kill us all outright. Tugged in all of these directions, none of them helpful, I'm sure. I don't know if I care anymore, though.
I've been alone in my head since making my last journal entry. Yesterday I had some kind of episode and freaked it pretty hard. The world feels like it's always ending. What's the point of life if
the world always feels that way? And how do other people escape this feeling I wonder.
Simon and I were talking about the past and I brought up that my mom used to bully me. Thinking back on it, she really was channelling the creulty of a teenager at her big age of 40 to 50-something for my entire childhood. She always used to make fun of my interests, and it didn't matter what those interests were. If I was rebellious, she obviously hated that, but if I tried to please her then I was pathetic for trying to garner her favor. I couldn't do anything right. Her favorite thing was to tell me that my interests were unoriginal and I was only interested because someone else was and I wanted to be them. She humiliated me with this kind of thing constantly.
I could go on and on about the ways she made me feel like a waste of air, but the main point here is that she used humiliation to do this alongside her anger. And I think this has something to do with why the world is always ending. It's hard to feel like good things can or are allowed to happen to you without consequence when you're ashamed of your very existance.
It makes me want to lash out and impose myself on everyone out of spite. Force the world to deal with me, so to speak. But I've done that before, and eventually I always get sick with shame to the point bile rises in my throat and I duck away into the dark. And then I do it again. My own personal hellish loop of vying for attention and then suffering under the weight of recieving it. While also revelling in it, too. Because it's attention, and any shame I feel for it is deserved and I should be feeling it. It's the way things should be, it's the way they always were.
But, like I said, the world is ending. I don't feel like I belong here. My interactions with the general public put me at risk of being found out. For what? I don't want to know. Or do I? Part of me wants to push that boundary and get angry with the way things are. Another part just wants to hide in the dark and rest. Another wants to kill us all outright. Tugged in all of these directions, none of them helpful, I'm sure. I don't know if I care anymore, though.
>> 6/7/2025
I told myself I wasn't going to talk about my system too much on this site, but when something affects your every day, it gets hard not to. I just
feel like a circus animal people are peering in at when I'm too open about it. I know it's weird, I know it doesn't make any sense when I try to talk about how it makes me feel... But there are people in my head, man. And they
fuck with me me. A lot.
The experience if being two people at once is one of the most uncomfortable things I've ever had to deal with. Usually my alters have subtle influence on me and my thoughts and if they come forward to take front I'm ousted from it completely, but right now I am of two minds at all times, I want different- even sometimes opposite- things at once. My voice never sounds right in my ears. My throat feels tight, I feel anxious. A thought keeps passing through my mind that says 'pull yourself together and come up with a person to show the world'. But I don't know who I want that person to be. My sense of self destroyed.
The only saving grace to this currently is that these two parts of me do share a lot of interests, which makes things easier than the last time this happened, but we don't agree on everything. Even making our button for the site yesterday was burdensome because we wanted different things. My brain feels so fried.
I like who I am, but Sigil also likes who she is. Neither of us want to compromise ourselves too much. We both want to exist as whole people, and part of that is gender identity. I swing from he to she like it's my job lately. It's so confusing and weird. I did say before I wasn't going to let anyone come in here and mess with my sense of identity like this, but I can't control it. I've never been able to, I just think I'll be able to this time every time it happens.
The truth is, the weight of disatisfaction overwhelms me every time. I feel so unfulfilled sometimes and the only way I can get rid of the feeling is to do what Sigil wants. Or whoever is in her place at any given time. But right now this is between me and her.
I don't know what's going to happen to me. I don't know who I'll end up becoming. Maybe we can find some kind of way to exist together peacefully if this is how it's going to be. I don't know. I wish I could confidently say who I am. It's all I've ever wanted, but I don't think I'm ever gonna achieve that.
I told myself I wasn't going to talk about my system too much on this site, but when something affects your every day, it gets hard not to. I just
feel like a circus animal people are peering in at when I'm too open about it. I know it's weird, I know it doesn't make any sense when I try to talk about how it makes me feel... But there are people in my head, man. And they
fuck with me me. A lot.
The experience if being two people at once is one of the most uncomfortable things I've ever had to deal with. Usually my alters have subtle influence on me and my thoughts and if they come forward to take front I'm ousted from it completely, but right now I am of two minds at all times, I want different- even sometimes opposite- things at once. My voice never sounds right in my ears. My throat feels tight, I feel anxious. A thought keeps passing through my mind that says 'pull yourself together and come up with a person to show the world'. But I don't know who I want that person to be. My sense of self destroyed.
The only saving grace to this currently is that these two parts of me do share a lot of interests, which makes things easier than the last time this happened, but we don't agree on everything. Even making our button for the site yesterday was burdensome because we wanted different things. My brain feels so fried.
I like who I am, but Sigil also likes who she is. Neither of us want to compromise ourselves too much. We both want to exist as whole people, and part of that is gender identity. I swing from he to she like it's my job lately. It's so confusing and weird. I did say before I wasn't going to let anyone come in here and mess with my sense of identity like this, but I can't control it. I've never been able to, I just think I'll be able to this time every time it happens.
The truth is, the weight of disatisfaction overwhelms me every time. I feel so unfulfilled sometimes and the only way I can get rid of the feeling is to do what Sigil wants. Or whoever is in her place at any given time. But right now this is between me and her.
I don't know what's going to happen to me. I don't know who I'll end up becoming. Maybe we can find some kind of way to exist together peacefully if this is how it's going to be. I don't know. I wish I could confidently say who I am. It's all I've ever wanted, but I don't think I'm ever gonna achieve that.
>> 6/6/2025
I've been feeling like a girl again. I mentioned this before, but that entry got deleted during an update I did right after it. Doesn't matter.
What matters is I feel like a girl. Not all the time, but a lot of the time recently.
I think it's been brought on by the fact that finishing my transition is not in my immediate future, I've got another year wait at the very least, and I can't handle the dysphoria that threatens to put me under 80% of the time I'm awake. So I guess I'm not surprised. Fem feelings always start returning under circumstances like this, my entire trans experience has been one fucking struggle after another and I think this is how my system is trying to keep me alive. If one identity feels downright suicidal while piloting the meat suit then there needs to be a change in management, right? Yeah.
Right now I'm pretty androgynous, depending on what clothing I wear or if I've grown out my facial hair I could be presumed male or female, and I've trained my voice to do both, but I've got a pretty little face that leads people to generally lean female when adressing me. I don't hate this, I've never hated being a woman, but when a male part of us is in control, it can be very trying to be seen as someone who isn't you even in the slightest.
That's why I'm going to start using both Slain and Sigil as a name, we're both here most of the time and it's not out of the realm of possibility that she'll end up taking over our day to day eventually. I don't think too much will change around here if she does, but still. She's cool though... She's way better at talking to people than me. Maybe she could make us some friends, lmao.
I've been feeling like a girl again. I mentioned this before, but that entry got deleted during an update I did right after it. Doesn't matter.
What matters is I feel like a girl. Not all the time, but a lot of the time recently.
I think it's been brought on by the fact that finishing my transition is not in my immediate future, I've got another year wait at the very least, and I can't handle the dysphoria that threatens to put me under 80% of the time I'm awake. So I guess I'm not surprised. Fem feelings always start returning under circumstances like this, my entire trans experience has been one fucking struggle after another and I think this is how my system is trying to keep me alive. If one identity feels downright suicidal while piloting the meat suit then there needs to be a change in management, right? Yeah.
Right now I'm pretty androgynous, depending on what clothing I wear or if I've grown out my facial hair I could be presumed male or female, and I've trained my voice to do both, but I've got a pretty little face that leads people to generally lean female when adressing me. I don't hate this, I've never hated being a woman, but when a male part of us is in control, it can be very trying to be seen as someone who isn't you even in the slightest.
That's why I'm going to start using both Slain and Sigil as a name, we're both here most of the time and it's not out of the realm of possibility that she'll end up taking over our day to day eventually. I don't think too much will change around here if she does, but still. She's cool though... She's way better at talking to people than me. Maybe she could make us some friends, lmao.
>> 6/4/2025
I woke up this morning convinced someone had gotten into our apartment because I'd heard movement coming from the main room, but when I got
up to investigate, I realized that there was no way the specific sound I'd heard could have even been made. What I'd heard sounded like someone rustling around trash bags, but we'd taken the trash out yesterday. This got me
wondering... The fuck is going on.
Am I going crazy? I have progressively gotten weirder as the last few years have dragged on. And I keep seeing things. Tall white figures, faces in furniture and on the walls. Sometimes even my husband's face tricks me and out of the corner of my eye I see something horrific. It's some scary shit sometimes. Other times it's just annoying. What freaks me out the most is how convinced I feel that I will lose someone to some kind of freak accident soon.
Death surrounds me and it always has, it takes up my thoughts and dictates my actions, but most of all it dictates my fears. I see a lot of death, sometimes I think I can feel it messing with my soul. I see it, I can stare at it. It never makes me feel anything other than fear. And then, sometimes not even that. Sometimes I am completely emotionally numb in the face of tragedy and the right feelings never come.
I obsess over death as if it's chasing me down and I have to keep throwing looks over my shoulder. I can't remember a time when this wasn't the case. I am so painfully aware that anything and everything can be ripped from you in an instant. Your whole life can change, just like that, and it will never be able to mend itself. A rotten hole will remain forever that aches any time good things start popping up in your life.
"That's very dramatic, Slain, but can you get to the point" yes. What I'm saying is this obsession I have is starting to feel tangible. It's being projected onto everything, and it's so loud. Watch out! Watch out! Someones going to get you, someone wants you dead. Someone wants to see you suffer. Someone's going to kill the ones you love. Someone's broken into your home, and you're next!!
I'm exhausted. If I could befriend death somehow, it would surely ease this suffering. But is doing that even possible... Hm.
I woke up this morning convinced someone had gotten into our apartment because I'd heard movement coming from the main room, but when I got
up to investigate, I realized that there was no way the specific sound I'd heard could have even been made. What I'd heard sounded like someone rustling around trash bags, but we'd taken the trash out yesterday. This got me
wondering... The fuck is going on.
Am I going crazy? I have progressively gotten weirder as the last few years have dragged on. And I keep seeing things. Tall white figures, faces in furniture and on the walls. Sometimes even my husband's face tricks me and out of the corner of my eye I see something horrific. It's some scary shit sometimes. Other times it's just annoying. What freaks me out the most is how convinced I feel that I will lose someone to some kind of freak accident soon.
Death surrounds me and it always has, it takes up my thoughts and dictates my actions, but most of all it dictates my fears. I see a lot of death, sometimes I think I can feel it messing with my soul. I see it, I can stare at it. It never makes me feel anything other than fear. And then, sometimes not even that. Sometimes I am completely emotionally numb in the face of tragedy and the right feelings never come.
I obsess over death as if it's chasing me down and I have to keep throwing looks over my shoulder. I can't remember a time when this wasn't the case. I am so painfully aware that anything and everything can be ripped from you in an instant. Your whole life can change, just like that, and it will never be able to mend itself. A rotten hole will remain forever that aches any time good things start popping up in your life.
"That's very dramatic, Slain, but can you get to the point" yes. What I'm saying is this obsession I have is starting to feel tangible. It's being projected onto everything, and it's so loud. Watch out! Watch out! Someones going to get you, someone wants you dead. Someone wants to see you suffer. Someone's going to kill the ones you love. Someone's broken into your home, and you're next!!
I'm exhausted. If I could befriend death somehow, it would surely ease this suffering. But is doing that even possible... Hm.
>> 6/2/2025
Identity weirdness continues and in general I feel... Outside of myself. A lot of these journal entries are just me complaining and
are probably depressing to read, but it's hard to write about anything else when you're in the torture pit. Still, I'll try to be a little possitive.
Good things going on right now... I've gone out every day, give or take a few rest days, for nearly a month now and my fear of the world has started to noticably decrease. I managed to hang out with my husband and his mom for a few hours for mother's day and I wasn't even that weird, I made conversation and it was normal. Eye contact is starting to feel less and less like the worst thing that could happen to me. I have been eating better and cut out a lot of fried, greasy garbage from my diet. My cooking skills are constantly improving with all the meals I've been making and it's really cool to notice in myself. I've also lost a lot of weight.
It's been a real struggle to make any of this happen while fighting off the urge to off myself, but I've done it and I am proud of myself for being tough enough. I sorta feel like my old self again. Hopefully that's for better and not for worse in the long run. Like I mentioned before, I don't want to go back to living in survival mode. But I guess I'll worry about that when I have to. Right now, I'm feeling very accomplished and I'm gonna bask in it.
WoW is still feeling fun after a few days of playing, too, which rules because I've been in a rut for months now where I just can't find joy in anything. But this is working- or rather WoW Classic is working. Retail Warcraft has become unrecognizable to me. I got to level 33 before ever leaving the Forsaken starter zone of Tirisfal/Silverpine. The questing experience is so rushed and all of the mobs scale to your level now? I hated that. So I installed Classic and now, after about 2 days of casusl playing, we've just hit level 16 and have died numerous times. That's more like it.
I got my first couple of green items yesterday and it felt so exciting. I love my little undead warlock engineer.
Identity weirdness continues and in general I feel... Outside of myself. A lot of these journal entries are just me complaining and
are probably depressing to read, but it's hard to write about anything else when you're in the torture pit. Still, I'll try to be a little possitive.
Good things going on right now... I've gone out every day, give or take a few rest days, for nearly a month now and my fear of the world has started to noticably decrease. I managed to hang out with my husband and his mom for a few hours for mother's day and I wasn't even that weird, I made conversation and it was normal. Eye contact is starting to feel less and less like the worst thing that could happen to me. I have been eating better and cut out a lot of fried, greasy garbage from my diet. My cooking skills are constantly improving with all the meals I've been making and it's really cool to notice in myself. I've also lost a lot of weight.
It's been a real struggle to make any of this happen while fighting off the urge to off myself, but I've done it and I am proud of myself for being tough enough. I sorta feel like my old self again. Hopefully that's for better and not for worse in the long run. Like I mentioned before, I don't want to go back to living in survival mode. But I guess I'll worry about that when I have to. Right now, I'm feeling very accomplished and I'm gonna bask in it.
WoW is still feeling fun after a few days of playing, too, which rules because I've been in a rut for months now where I just can't find joy in anything. But this is working- or rather WoW Classic is working. Retail Warcraft has become unrecognizable to me. I got to level 33 before ever leaving the Forsaken starter zone of Tirisfal/Silverpine. The questing experience is so rushed and all of the mobs scale to your level now? I hated that. So I installed Classic and now, after about 2 days of casusl playing, we've just hit level 16 and have died numerous times. That's more like it.
I got my first couple of green items yesterday and it felt so exciting. I love my little undead warlock engineer.
>> 5/30/2025
It's been about 6 or 7 years since I last played World of Warcraft, but I picked it back up again a few days ago to chase away the suffering
boredom was putting me through. It has changed quite a bit, but that's expected I guess. I'm having fun playing with Simon, though. We've already come up with a few new ideas for characters. It's been a while since there was any inspiration
for that. The well was pretty dry, it's been nice to feel motivation to make characters and stories again.
Unfortunately the thing that ran me off from this game probably still creeps around on it, so just in case this entry is found by it, I'm not gonna divulge my server or character names. I will probably draw them eventually, though.
In other news, the alters I've got upstairs have been a little restless lately. My head feels foggy and full most of the time. Makes it hard to think, makes even writing this entry difficult, so if it reads a little choppy or flows like shit you'll just have to forgive me. Or don't and fuck off.
Anyway, I've been feeling a lot of things, wondering a lot of things, and seeing a lot of things, too. My sense of self is somehow stable and turbulent all at once. Most of the time I know who I am and who I want to be, but it will randomly falter, or I'll get a sense of dissatisfaction rattling around in the back of my head. I kind of find it annoying. I'm pretty sick and tired of being nothing because no one can make up their mind who we are. That makes me want to ignore these feelings entirely. And maybe I will.
We were nothing for years, we were comprised solely of survival tactics and a refusal to feel anything at all. Boring. Bad. I'm not interested in going back and I don't know why we ever would. I like who I am turning into and I don't think we should revert backward just because.... I don't know. I have no idea why this is happening. But I won't let it.
... I just came across slipknot x reader fanfiction as I was wrapping this entry up. Forget everything I said here, I'm gonna fucking kill myself. C'ya.
It's been about 6 or 7 years since I last played World of Warcraft, but I picked it back up again a few days ago to chase away the suffering
boredom was putting me through. It has changed quite a bit, but that's expected I guess. I'm having fun playing with Simon, though. We've already come up with a few new ideas for characters. It's been a while since there was any inspiration
for that. The well was pretty dry, it's been nice to feel motivation to make characters and stories again.
Unfortunately the thing that ran me off from this game probably still creeps around on it, so just in case this entry is found by it, I'm not gonna divulge my server or character names. I will probably draw them eventually, though.
In other news, the alters I've got upstairs have been a little restless lately. My head feels foggy and full most of the time. Makes it hard to think, makes even writing this entry difficult, so if it reads a little choppy or flows like shit you'll just have to forgive me. Or don't and fuck off.
Anyway, I've been feeling a lot of things, wondering a lot of things, and seeing a lot of things, too. My sense of self is somehow stable and turbulent all at once. Most of the time I know who I am and who I want to be, but it will randomly falter, or I'll get a sense of dissatisfaction rattling around in the back of my head. I kind of find it annoying. I'm pretty sick and tired of being nothing because no one can make up their mind who we are. That makes me want to ignore these feelings entirely. And maybe I will.
We were nothing for years, we were comprised solely of survival tactics and a refusal to feel anything at all. Boring. Bad. I'm not interested in going back and I don't know why we ever would. I like who I am turning into and I don't think we should revert backward just because.... I don't know. I have no idea why this is happening. But I won't let it.
... I just came across slipknot x reader fanfiction as I was wrapping this entry up. Forget everything I said here, I'm gonna fucking kill myself. C'ya.
>> 5/27/2025
This is gonna be kind of a rant, but I just can't do it with fandom anymore. Which sucks, considering I like to draw fanart and therefor am just sort of tied to it by default.
But it's just so... Annoying. If I try to look up fanart of my fave characters on any given site, I have to suffer through some of the worst opinions I've ever seen. It's actually made me want to distance myself from almost everything, and it's pretty much
ruined my desire to interact with Postal at all.
I think that sucks the most. Postal means a lot to me, I did a lot of character building with Postal 1 Dude, I gave him backstory and personality he was lacking in his game, I even co-wrote a fic about him with my husband, and at first it was for fun, but there's a huge amount of insufferable people who seem to deny that he even committed a massacre and they don't like it when you say he did. Dude killed so many fucking people, and they characterize him as a little crybaby and defend it with their fucking lives.
But it's not just Dude that gets the treatment, and I'm aware declawing characters is an age old problem in fandom, but I can't fuckin' stand it anymore. I just want to get away from it all and find some peace, lmao. My art has been posted in different places all over the web at this point, and I can't even bring myself to look at the comments people leave on my work. I don't even wanna know what they think, which... That's kinda the whole point of a community, right? Interacting and shit? But I don't wanna risk getting ticked off over petty shit.
I don't even wanna get into how purity culture is seeping into everything and apperantly it's a crime to draw anything NSFW these days. It'd piss me off too much.
I dunno. I just find it all so annoying that unfortunately none of it feels worth my time or energy. I mostly draw for myself, but I'd be lying if I said this little revelation of mine hasn't put a damper on my creativity. It's nice to share things, to get feedback and make friends... Until it's not, I guess.
Luckily, thanks to Neocities, I've become pretty disconnected from it all while still being able to share what I make. It's been good for me. Maybe some day I'll get my patience back and I'll be able to just ignore everything again. That'd be something.
This is gonna be kind of a rant, but I just can't do it with fandom anymore. Which sucks, considering I like to draw fanart and therefor am just sort of tied to it by default.
But it's just so... Annoying. If I try to look up fanart of my fave characters on any given site, I have to suffer through some of the worst opinions I've ever seen. It's actually made me want to distance myself from almost everything, and it's pretty much
ruined my desire to interact with Postal at all.
I think that sucks the most. Postal means a lot to me, I did a lot of character building with Postal 1 Dude, I gave him backstory and personality he was lacking in his game, I even co-wrote a fic about him with my husband, and at first it was for fun, but there's a huge amount of insufferable people who seem to deny that he even committed a massacre and they don't like it when you say he did. Dude killed so many fucking people, and they characterize him as a little crybaby and defend it with their fucking lives.
But it's not just Dude that gets the treatment, and I'm aware declawing characters is an age old problem in fandom, but I can't fuckin' stand it anymore. I just want to get away from it all and find some peace, lmao. My art has been posted in different places all over the web at this point, and I can't even bring myself to look at the comments people leave on my work. I don't even wanna know what they think, which... That's kinda the whole point of a community, right? Interacting and shit? But I don't wanna risk getting ticked off over petty shit.
I don't even wanna get into how purity culture is seeping into everything and apperantly it's a crime to draw anything NSFW these days. It'd piss me off too much.
I dunno. I just find it all so annoying that unfortunately none of it feels worth my time or energy. I mostly draw for myself, but I'd be lying if I said this little revelation of mine hasn't put a damper on my creativity. It's nice to share things, to get feedback and make friends... Until it's not, I guess.
Luckily, thanks to Neocities, I've become pretty disconnected from it all while still being able to share what I make. It's been good for me. Maybe some day I'll get my patience back and I'll be able to just ignore everything again. That'd be something.
>> 5/25/2025
Simon and I went out today and had a little adventure at the mall. It was terrifyingly busy, I really thought everyone would be hanging out with their moms at home today since its mother's day
here in Sweden, but actually all the moms were at the mall with their tiny children. It was too fucking much, why do so many people want those little scream machines?
Either way, it was another try at exposure therapy for me, I stuck it out despite how busy the mall and trains were. Even Simon was getting overwhelmed and he's used to this shit. But I kept my cool somehow. No anxiety attacks got me... Though there was sort of a close call at the grocery store which was similarly packed with people. I was just so drained at that point I wanted to run for my life and go home. But I made it through fine.
All I could think about was how I didn't used to freak at all, no matter the crowd, and I wonder how I ever did it. I spend a lot of time these days trying to plan outings around when I think the dead hours will be so I have to see as few people as possible. I feel so disconnected from the rest of the public. I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb in some way, like people can just sense I'm not supposed to be intermingling with them. It sucks balls.
We're going to see Simon's mom tomorrow since she's out of town today with his brother's family. I hope she doesn't pick up on how fucked up I feel. But she probably will, I think I'm pretty obviously drenched in despair despite myself. Gonna bake for her, though, so we can have something a little special for our mother's day fika. Getting her some wine and flowers, too. Am I a great son-in-law? No. But I'm trying to be a decent one.
Trying to be a decent anything, come to think of it. I wonder if I'll ever get to the other side of this shit and finally feel proud of myself.
Simon and I went out today and had a little adventure at the mall. It was terrifyingly busy, I really thought everyone would be hanging out with their moms at home today since its mother's day
here in Sweden, but actually all the moms were at the mall with their tiny children. It was too fucking much, why do so many people want those little scream machines?
Either way, it was another try at exposure therapy for me, I stuck it out despite how busy the mall and trains were. Even Simon was getting overwhelmed and he's used to this shit. But I kept my cool somehow. No anxiety attacks got me... Though there was sort of a close call at the grocery store which was similarly packed with people. I was just so drained at that point I wanted to run for my life and go home. But I made it through fine.
All I could think about was how I didn't used to freak at all, no matter the crowd, and I wonder how I ever did it. I spend a lot of time these days trying to plan outings around when I think the dead hours will be so I have to see as few people as possible. I feel so disconnected from the rest of the public. I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb in some way, like people can just sense I'm not supposed to be intermingling with them. It sucks balls.
We're going to see Simon's mom tomorrow since she's out of town today with his brother's family. I hope she doesn't pick up on how fucked up I feel. But she probably will, I think I'm pretty obviously drenched in despair despite myself. Gonna bake for her, though, so we can have something a little special for our mother's day fika. Getting her some wine and flowers, too. Am I a great son-in-law? No. But I'm trying to be a decent one.
Trying to be a decent anything, come to think of it. I wonder if I'll ever get to the other side of this shit and finally feel proud of myself.
>> 5/18/2025
Our upstairs neighbors have the worst fucking taste in music, it actually gets me feeling violent when they start blasting that shit. I get homicidal, man. Turn that shit
down! It's fucking embarrassing! And tell your shit kid to stop stomping while you're at it. Christ. I hate your guts.
Anyway. What I wanted to talk about is how I've been going out almost every day for the last week or so. Managed to go into the city with my husband, even, which didn't make me feel insane at all. I didn't get stressed and I didn't worry about getting stabbed by a rando. I also didn't plan escape routes for every area we visited. Promise. And you can't prove that I did.
We usually go down to the lake and see the ducks. I do like doing that.
Everything is going just fine. I don't want to rip myself apart into thin ribbons of flesh and meat and die in the dirt. No way. Not even close. Life is going soooo good. So good. I could vomit from the amount of joy and happiness coursing through my system.
Our upstairs neighbors have the worst fucking taste in music, it actually gets me feeling violent when they start blasting that shit. I get homicidal, man. Turn that shit
down! It's fucking embarrassing! And tell your shit kid to stop stomping while you're at it. Christ. I hate your guts.
Anyway. What I wanted to talk about is how I've been going out almost every day for the last week or so. Managed to go into the city with my husband, even, which didn't make me feel insane at all. I didn't get stressed and I didn't worry about getting stabbed by a rando. I also didn't plan escape routes for every area we visited. Promise. And you can't prove that I did.
We usually go down to the lake and see the ducks. I do like doing that.
Everything is going just fine. I don't want to rip myself apart into thin ribbons of flesh and meat and die in the dirt. No way. Not even close. Life is going soooo good. So good. I could vomit from the amount of joy and happiness coursing through my system.
>> 5/15/2025
Last night was wild. I had an insane panic attack, the worst one I've had in years, and it triggered a flashback that really threw me into a tizzy. I don't
want to get into why it happened, nothing life threatening came after me, but it's been making me think for hours about how helpless I feel without any spirituality. I had no one and nothing to call out to, I could only sit around and shake and
cry without any hope of comfort for my soul.
I've mentioned before that after leaving Christianity I slowly stopped believing in just about anything, and though curiosity remains, right now I would consider myself an athiest... Sort of. More like I find it hard to differentiate between what might be true and what's only a thing so the people who preach it can control others, thus making every kind of spiritual teaching feel artificial.
The perhaps most obvious fix to this issue, for me at least, is that I should reach out on my own and devise my own kind of worship or partnership or whatever. If I try to listen to anyone else tell me what to do, I only end up skeptical at the fact these people are so certain they know what any diety might want. Where do you get off speaking for something like that, y'know?
I guess that's also the difference between spirituality and religion. Spirituality is a lot more personal and it looks different for just about everyone. I'd like to believe there's something to it all. I'd like to believe there's something out there, that the world isn't really so bland as us living and dying and there's nothing more to it. It depresses me.
All I can really do is try things out, I suppose. See if anything clings to my soul and I feel compelled to cling back.
Last night was wild. I had an insane panic attack, the worst one I've had in years, and it triggered a flashback that really threw me into a tizzy. I don't
want to get into why it happened, nothing life threatening came after me, but it's been making me think for hours about how helpless I feel without any spirituality. I had no one and nothing to call out to, I could only sit around and shake and
cry without any hope of comfort for my soul.
I've mentioned before that after leaving Christianity I slowly stopped believing in just about anything, and though curiosity remains, right now I would consider myself an athiest... Sort of. More like I find it hard to differentiate between what might be true and what's only a thing so the people who preach it can control others, thus making every kind of spiritual teaching feel artificial.
The perhaps most obvious fix to this issue, for me at least, is that I should reach out on my own and devise my own kind of worship or partnership or whatever. If I try to listen to anyone else tell me what to do, I only end up skeptical at the fact these people are so certain they know what any diety might want. Where do you get off speaking for something like that, y'know?
I guess that's also the difference between spirituality and religion. Spirituality is a lot more personal and it looks different for just about everyone. I'd like to believe there's something to it all. I'd like to believe there's something out there, that the world isn't really so bland as us living and dying and there's nothing more to it. It depresses me.
All I can really do is try things out, I suppose. See if anything clings to my soul and I feel compelled to cling back.
>> 5/13/2025
Social media inspires an absolutely foul beast in me. I can't even be in proximity to it anymore without my
mood taking a sharp nosedive, making me want to lash out at every opinion I see. And it's kind of strange that this has started happening, I used to be fine with differing opinions, and I still am
in most circumstances, but not when it comes to looking at any kind of social media feed.
I've been on sites like tumblr and twitter since I was 16 or so, sharing my art and interacting with others, but within the last few years it's become impossible for me to exist on those sites without losing my temper almost immediately. I have no patience for stupidity. Virtue signaling, brainrot, a complete lack of understanding for nuance and the sanitization of any media that has dark themes... It all makes me want to attack someone.
I honestly don't know how my other alters who thrived on those sites tolerated any of it the way they did. A lot of ignoring was going on, I assume, but I can't even manage that. I just get angry.
I'm glad Neocities is here and it allows me to share myself while still feeling contained. It doesn't feel like anyone else with a website is intruding on my space and I don't worry about intruding on theirs. Everything someone makes or says is contained within the pocket of their site, making it easy to distance yourself from anything off-putting, instead of everyone yelling out into the same shitty void, filling it up like a landfill with bullshit meant only to garner attention and validation.
As I write this and consider it all, I think my biggest problem with all of this personally is that I've become incredibly misanthropic within the last 4 or 5 years. My opinion of the human race is not a good one, and I feel about the general public how you might feel about someone you can't stand personally. Nothing they say is funny, everything they say is dumb, and you wish they'd just shut the hell up and poof into nonexistance already. And sometimes that kind of judgement is even given without good reason, just because you don't have patience for them anymore.
Still, I am far from the only person that feels this way, I've seen this same sentiment on sites all over Neocities. Maybe it's not just me that has changed. Maybe shit really has gotten worse over time and my reaction to it is a natural one. Hard to say, but I do know one thing... I want to trash my smartphone, and I don't even use it to doomscroll anymore. I think I'll get myself a shitty Nokia, shove some minutes in it so I can text my husband, and call it a day as soon as I've got an extra 400kr to spend.
Social media inspires an absolutely foul beast in me. I can't even be in proximity to it anymore without my
mood taking a sharp nosedive, making me want to lash out at every opinion I see. And it's kind of strange that this has started happening, I used to be fine with differing opinions, and I still am
in most circumstances, but not when it comes to looking at any kind of social media feed.
I've been on sites like tumblr and twitter since I was 16 or so, sharing my art and interacting with others, but within the last few years it's become impossible for me to exist on those sites without losing my temper almost immediately. I have no patience for stupidity. Virtue signaling, brainrot, a complete lack of understanding for nuance and the sanitization of any media that has dark themes... It all makes me want to attack someone.
I honestly don't know how my other alters who thrived on those sites tolerated any of it the way they did. A lot of ignoring was going on, I assume, but I can't even manage that. I just get angry.
I'm glad Neocities is here and it allows me to share myself while still feeling contained. It doesn't feel like anyone else with a website is intruding on my space and I don't worry about intruding on theirs. Everything someone makes or says is contained within the pocket of their site, making it easy to distance yourself from anything off-putting, instead of everyone yelling out into the same shitty void, filling it up like a landfill with bullshit meant only to garner attention and validation.
As I write this and consider it all, I think my biggest problem with all of this personally is that I've become incredibly misanthropic within the last 4 or 5 years. My opinion of the human race is not a good one, and I feel about the general public how you might feel about someone you can't stand personally. Nothing they say is funny, everything they say is dumb, and you wish they'd just shut the hell up and poof into nonexistance already. And sometimes that kind of judgement is even given without good reason, just because you don't have patience for them anymore.
Still, I am far from the only person that feels this way, I've seen this same sentiment on sites all over Neocities. Maybe it's not just me that has changed. Maybe shit really has gotten worse over time and my reaction to it is a natural one. Hard to say, but I do know one thing... I want to trash my smartphone, and I don't even use it to doomscroll anymore. I think I'll get myself a shitty Nokia, shove some minutes in it so I can text my husband, and call it a day as soon as I've got an extra 400kr to spend.
>> 5/8/2025
Jag hatar idén att man växer ur depression, för jag tror inte det är sant. Jag vet faktiskt att det inte är så. Min depression har fakstiskt
blivit värre ju äldre jag blir, men det är tydligt många har uppfattningen att växa upp betyder att man kväver sina känslor. Jag hatar detta. Det folk säger om självskada är ännu värre, särskilt om de tycker att man är
för gammal.
Tidigare idag såg jag en kommentar på en annan sida som sa 'jag slutade självskada när jag bestämde mig för att bli vuxen'. Vafan? Skämtar du med mig?? Jag ska döda dig. 'Jag bestämde mig för att bli vuxen' min röv, som om smärta har en ålder. Och den här personen var tydligen sjuksköterska. Ja ska döda dig en gång till.
Jag förstår inte det sättet att tänka... eller kanske jag gör det. Sånna kommentarer är till för att skamlägga folk till att sluta, inte för att det någonsin funkar. De vill bara sätta sig på en piedestal och känna sig själv som bättre än dig. Det är sorgligt. Det är patetiskt. Mycket mer patetiskt än någon som självskadar. Jag hatar fan dessa människor.
Jag vägrar att känna mig skyldig för någon jävel tycker att jag ska. Jag står inte för självskada, men den här skiten hjälper inte någon, du är bara ett rövhål.
Men som sagt, den här attityden sträcker till varje aspekt av depression och psykisk ohälsa generellt. 'Väx upp, ta dig samman' är allt vi någonsin hör. Eller kanska det bara är min lott. Jag vet inte, men jag är less på det.
Jag skrev på svenska för alla kan ta sig.
Jag hatar idén att man växer ur depression, för jag tror inte det är sant. Jag vet faktiskt att det inte är så. Min depression har fakstiskt
blivit värre ju äldre jag blir, men det är tydligt många har uppfattningen att växa upp betyder att man kväver sina känslor. Jag hatar detta. Det folk säger om självskada är ännu värre, särskilt om de tycker att man är
för gammal.
Tidigare idag såg jag en kommentar på en annan sida som sa 'jag slutade självskada när jag bestämde mig för att bli vuxen'. Vafan? Skämtar du med mig?? Jag ska döda dig. 'Jag bestämde mig för att bli vuxen' min röv, som om smärta har en ålder. Och den här personen var tydligen sjuksköterska. Ja ska döda dig en gång till.
Jag förstår inte det sättet att tänka... eller kanske jag gör det. Sånna kommentarer är till för att skamlägga folk till att sluta, inte för att det någonsin funkar. De vill bara sätta sig på en piedestal och känna sig själv som bättre än dig. Det är sorgligt. Det är patetiskt. Mycket mer patetiskt än någon som självskadar. Jag hatar fan dessa människor.
Jag vägrar att känna mig skyldig för någon jävel tycker att jag ska. Jag står inte för självskada, men den här skiten hjälper inte någon, du är bara ett rövhål.
Men som sagt, den här attityden sträcker till varje aspekt av depression och psykisk ohälsa generellt. 'Väx upp, ta dig samman' är allt vi någonsin hör. Eller kanska det bara är min lott. Jag vet inte, men jag är less på det.
Jag skrev på svenska för alla kan ta sig.
>> 5/1/2025
Well, despite everything, I made it to my 30th. My birthday was yesterday and honestly it was pretty good... All thanks to my husband, of course.
He really went all out, setting up a little "I ♡ you" sign with balloons above our computer desk and tying a bow to my morning Red Bull. He even scattered confetti over the coffee table and lit a few candles. He surprised me with all of this when I came back into the room after my morning shower... It all felt really special. I felt even more special when he made me a black metal themed princess cake from scratch and ordered us burgers from my favorite place in the city. He really understands how to pull me out of the pit. Or rather, how to help me pull myself out of it. I don't want it to sound like he's doing all the work. I just love talking him up.
All in all, it was a special day despite my depressive bullshit, and we even went on a walk together that aboslutely exhausted me after only getting 4 hours of sleep the night before. Insomnia is kicking my ass, but it couldn't stop me from having the best time I could. After the walk we watched my favorite movies (Texas Chainsaw Massacre and House of 1000 Corpses). I feel really loved... And today the party even continues! We are having mixed drinks later and watching more horror movies. The plan is to watch a few we've never seen, preferrably ones that aren't so well known. Then I can finally write something interesting for my movies page.
Anyway, I'll share a few pics here that I took to remember this day as a very special one. It's time to start a new decade of my life again, and hopefully this one will pan out to be one filled with less grief and more joy. Maybe I'll even find something to be passionate about that fufills me. I'm going to try, it's all I can do, and hope for the best.
Well, despite everything, I made it to my 30th. My birthday was yesterday and honestly it was pretty good... All thanks to my husband, of course.
He really went all out, setting up a little "I ♡ you" sign with balloons above our computer desk and tying a bow to my morning Red Bull. He even scattered confetti over the coffee table and lit a few candles. He surprised me with all of this when I came back into the room after my morning shower... It all felt really special. I felt even more special when he made me a black metal themed princess cake from scratch and ordered us burgers from my favorite place in the city. He really understands how to pull me out of the pit. Or rather, how to help me pull myself out of it. I don't want it to sound like he's doing all the work. I just love talking him up.
All in all, it was a special day despite my depressive bullshit, and we even went on a walk together that aboslutely exhausted me after only getting 4 hours of sleep the night before. Insomnia is kicking my ass, but it couldn't stop me from having the best time I could. After the walk we watched my favorite movies (Texas Chainsaw Massacre and House of 1000 Corpses). I feel really loved... And today the party even continues! We are having mixed drinks later and watching more horror movies. The plan is to watch a few we've never seen, preferrably ones that aren't so well known. Then I can finally write something interesting for my movies page.
Anyway, I'll share a few pics here that I took to remember this day as a very special one. It's time to start a new decade of my life again, and hopefully this one will pan out to be one filled with less grief and more joy. Maybe I'll even find something to be passionate about that fufills me. I'm going to try, it's all I can do, and hope for the best.
>> 4/28/2025
It's the 28th... Two days until my birthday. I don't think I've ever dreaded one as much as I do this one. I feel comepletely outside myself.
I don't know how to explain it. I just don't feel real. Nothing else feels real either, I keep seeing shit and I feel terrified of the world. It's all a bunch of bullshit, too, because this morning the weather is gorgeous. I have a mind to go out on a walk with my husband, but I'm too fucking scared.
Good weather means everyone else will want to be out in it, too, and I can't stand being around the general public. I feel tense every time I have to walk past someone, it feels like eye contact will ruin my life if I let it happen. I can barely even look my husband in the eye anymore. It didn't used to be like this, but my problems are starting to affect literally everything. Not that he minds, he gets it, but I still feel bad.
As I type this he's working on cleaning the house in preperation for our private little party on the 30th, he seems really determined to make this day the best it can be, even though I'm dreading it to the point of throwing myself into some kind of episode. I don't deserve this man...
I should be so happy. I shouldn't feel this terrible dread. Everything is okay, it's better than it's ever been, and I feel like I'm already 6ft. under. It's really hard not to be insanely angry with myself for wasting day after day as a depressed little hermit. I do try to go out, I've been doing it more than usual, but every time I go out there...
I just don't trust anybody and that narrative feels so justified that every time I try to talk myself out of it I feel like I'm leaving myself out in the open. I hate being vulnerable, I hate the very idea of it. But I'm also so miserable.
I guess I just gotta keep trying. Get through this fucking birthday... And go from there.
It's the 28th... Two days until my birthday. I don't think I've ever dreaded one as much as I do this one. I feel comepletely outside myself.
I don't know how to explain it. I just don't feel real. Nothing else feels real either, I keep seeing shit and I feel terrified of the world. It's all a bunch of bullshit, too, because this morning the weather is gorgeous. I have a mind to go out on a walk with my husband, but I'm too fucking scared.
Good weather means everyone else will want to be out in it, too, and I can't stand being around the general public. I feel tense every time I have to walk past someone, it feels like eye contact will ruin my life if I let it happen. I can barely even look my husband in the eye anymore. It didn't used to be like this, but my problems are starting to affect literally everything. Not that he minds, he gets it, but I still feel bad.
As I type this he's working on cleaning the house in preperation for our private little party on the 30th, he seems really determined to make this day the best it can be, even though I'm dreading it to the point of throwing myself into some kind of episode. I don't deserve this man...
I should be so happy. I shouldn't feel this terrible dread. Everything is okay, it's better than it's ever been, and I feel like I'm already 6ft. under. It's really hard not to be insanely angry with myself for wasting day after day as a depressed little hermit. I do try to go out, I've been doing it more than usual, but every time I go out there...
I just don't trust anybody and that narrative feels so justified that every time I try to talk myself out of it I feel like I'm leaving myself out in the open. I hate being vulnerable, I hate the very idea of it. But I'm also so miserable.
I guess I just gotta keep trying. Get through this fucking birthday... And go from there.
>> 4/16/2025
Back on the 8th of this month, my husband brought me some roses to set out in loving memory for that anniversary, but today they finally started to wilt. I've decided I'll try to make rose water
from the petals, and from there... I'm not really sure. It's got me thinking about my spirituality, though, which I've all but abandoned at this point. I never will be and never want to be beholden to christianity again. But having nothing at all to replace it has left me feeling a little empty.
I'm interested in all kinds of beliefs and I've dabbled here and there in the occult and other things relating to it. Maybe it was because I was so angry at god that I even dared to fling myself in the opposite direction. Or maybe I was being called to it. It's difficult for me to say, because I've been at the mercy of delusions before. But I also want to believe in something. Other people do... So why is it so crazy that I would, too?
I guess it's not. I'm just afraid of losing myself all over again to something else. Christianity took so much from me and it continues to take every time my mother preaches to me about the end times. It robbed me of any chance I had at normalcy in every facet of my life.
But I need something. Maybe. I dunno. I feel really conflicted.
Anyway, outside of all that, today is the day that the first vhs of our collection came in the mail and I am over the fuckin' moon. It's Tobe Hooper's Texas Chainsaw and it's in fantastic condition. I could not be happier about this, especially considering the price we found it for.
Feels really good to own physical media again. I'm so glad we started this and other collections. Holding it in your hands is just something so special, and the best part is, no one can just take it from you.
Speaking of, I have been getting around Spotify's ads for a while now, but I am so ready to drop it for good. It makes me so unbelievably angry, the convenience of it becomes less and less appealing the more time passes. Fuck subscription services. I'd rather die than pay for this shit. I want to own CDs again!!!
And I will. Fuck you Spotify.
Back on the 8th of this month, my husband brought me some roses to set out in loving memory for that anniversary, but today they finally started to wilt. I've decided I'll try to make rose water
from the petals, and from there... I'm not really sure. It's got me thinking about my spirituality, though, which I've all but abandoned at this point. I never will be and never want to be beholden to christianity again. But having nothing at all to replace it has left me feeling a little empty.
I'm interested in all kinds of beliefs and I've dabbled here and there in the occult and other things relating to it. Maybe it was because I was so angry at god that I even dared to fling myself in the opposite direction. Or maybe I was being called to it. It's difficult for me to say, because I've been at the mercy of delusions before. But I also want to believe in something. Other people do... So why is it so crazy that I would, too?
I guess it's not. I'm just afraid of losing myself all over again to something else. Christianity took so much from me and it continues to take every time my mother preaches to me about the end times. It robbed me of any chance I had at normalcy in every facet of my life.
But I need something. Maybe. I dunno. I feel really conflicted.
Anyway, outside of all that, today is the day that the first vhs of our collection came in the mail and I am over the fuckin' moon. It's Tobe Hooper's Texas Chainsaw and it's in fantastic condition. I could not be happier about this, especially considering the price we found it for.
Feels really good to own physical media again. I'm so glad we started this and other collections. Holding it in your hands is just something so special, and the best part is, no one can just take it from you.
Speaking of, I have been getting around Spotify's ads for a while now, but I am so ready to drop it for good. It makes me so unbelievably angry, the convenience of it becomes less and less appealing the more time passes. Fuck subscription services. I'd rather die than pay for this shit. I want to own CDs again!!!
And I will. Fuck you Spotify.
>> 4/14/2025
I want to make a more positive post today, because I should probably be at least trying
to change how I think, right? Gonna be hard, but I do have a topic for this that's gonna make it pretty easy.
I love my husband. I love him so much. This year, back in March, we hit our 10th anniversary of being together, and first year being married. I moved countries to be with this mf, he's my favorite person on the planet and I feel so lucky that he's mine.
Maybe some day I'll make a shrine page for him, but for now I'll just yap.
There's a lot I could point to and praise him for... He's back in school for the second time (he already has a liscense to be an RNA) and passing all of his classes, he treats my issues with repect and has no problems with accomodating me, he doesn't hold grudges, he's not resentful, he's got patience that rivals the gods. Or whatever's out there. It doesn't matter, he's just the best of the best and my chest aches just thinking about it.
He and I also share just about every interest, save for a few on either side. There are things we disagree on, things one of us likes that the other doesn't, but for the most part we match up. I've never met someone like this before. In fact, I think I'd be hard pressed to find anyone else out there I can even tolerate, but I'm obsessed with this man.
I think about him all the time and I miss him when he's gone for even just a little while. We were long distance for 6 years, and I never once stopped wanting him around. I never got bored. I never wanted anyone else.
I started writing this earlier in the day, but left it for a bit. We ended up going on a night walk that we just got back from, and while my mind was as busy as ever and my wariness of everyone around me persisted, I'm glad I went. We saw some really gorgeous night views, the lights of the city reflecting off of the lake was especially beautiful. And of course, despite my anticipating it, nothing even remotely bad happened.
I need to have more moments like this with him. I need to face all of my fears and get over this. I want more good memories with him. My everything.
I want to make a more positive post today, because I should probably be at least trying
to change how I think, right? Gonna be hard, but I do have a topic for this that's gonna make it pretty easy.
I love my husband. I love him so much. This year, back in March, we hit our 10th anniversary of being together, and first year being married. I moved countries to be with this mf, he's my favorite person on the planet and I feel so lucky that he's mine.
Maybe some day I'll make a shrine page for him, but for now I'll just yap.
There's a lot I could point to and praise him for... He's back in school for the second time (he already has a liscense to be an RNA) and passing all of his classes, he treats my issues with repect and has no problems with accomodating me, he doesn't hold grudges, he's not resentful, he's got patience that rivals the gods. Or whatever's out there. It doesn't matter, he's just the best of the best and my chest aches just thinking about it.
He and I also share just about every interest, save for a few on either side. There are things we disagree on, things one of us likes that the other doesn't, but for the most part we match up. I've never met someone like this before. In fact, I think I'd be hard pressed to find anyone else out there I can even tolerate, but I'm obsessed with this man.
I think about him all the time and I miss him when he's gone for even just a little while. We were long distance for 6 years, and I never once stopped wanting him around. I never got bored. I never wanted anyone else.
I started writing this earlier in the day, but left it for a bit. We ended up going on a night walk that we just got back from, and while my mind was as busy as ever and my wariness of everyone around me persisted, I'm glad I went. We saw some really gorgeous night views, the lights of the city reflecting off of the lake was especially beautiful. And of course, despite my anticipating it, nothing even remotely bad happened.
I need to have more moments like this with him. I need to face all of my fears and get over this. I want more good memories with him. My everything.
>> 4/12/2025
Yesterday was fucking horrible, and my journal entry on it is a little dramatic, but I'm going to leave it where it is. I
don't see any reason why I should be embarrassed of it or get rid of it, but I woke up today feeling different.
Maybe it's just resiliance slowly re-building up within me, or maybe having an insane moment like yesterday vented something off of me that's letting me see things with more clarity. I dunno. But today I feel more determined to fix my life than I have in ages.
It's really like some kind of fog lifted, I can see where so many of my own flaws lie, and I want to fix them and get better, but the trick now is finding out what exactly I'm capable of and if it will be enough to turn things around.
I keep thinking back to how I used to feel about the world. In fact, it kinda plagues me. But that was before the psychosis that brought in a kind of depression I've never encountered before. Not inside myself, at any rate. I've never been this suicidal and afraid of the world.
The obvious answer to anyone who finds this is that I need therapy, I'm sure, but that's a whole other can of worms. As things are now, it's pretty impossible for me to seek out that kind of help. I need to figure this shit out on my own, I need to deal with it myself as much as I can.
For now, all there is to do is see what tomorrow brings. Which is honestly so scary.
Yesterday was fucking horrible, and my journal entry on it is a little dramatic, but I'm going to leave it where it is. I
don't see any reason why I should be embarrassed of it or get rid of it, but I woke up today feeling different.
Maybe it's just resiliance slowly re-building up within me, or maybe having an insane moment like yesterday vented something off of me that's letting me see things with more clarity. I dunno. But today I feel more determined to fix my life than I have in ages.
It's really like some kind of fog lifted, I can see where so many of my own flaws lie, and I want to fix them and get better, but the trick now is finding out what exactly I'm capable of and if it will be enough to turn things around.
I keep thinking back to how I used to feel about the world. In fact, it kinda plagues me. But that was before the psychosis that brought in a kind of depression I've never encountered before. Not inside myself, at any rate. I've never been this suicidal and afraid of the world.
The obvious answer to anyone who finds this is that I need therapy, I'm sure, but that's a whole other can of worms. As things are now, it's pretty impossible for me to seek out that kind of help. I need to figure this shit out on my own, I need to deal with it myself as much as I can.
For now, all there is to do is see what tomorrow brings. Which is honestly so scary.
>> 4/11/2025
My skull's been buzzing lately. There's some kind of desire in the back of my head that keeps poking at me, wanting me
to be more. Wanting me to toughen up, roll with the punches and get the hell out of this emotional pit. But it doesn't feel like
the desire alone is quite enough.
How much bullshit can a person just roll with before they fucking kill themselves? I feel like I'm gonna find out the answer to that soon, if things don't change.
And it's not for my lack of trying that I'm stuck here. I have been fighting to stay alive for the past year and a half. I am pushing myself to do the hard thing, the thing I don't want to do but should for my own good, and it doesn't fucking matter.
You can try and you can try, but if there is something sucking all your energy and joy out, it will end up killing you. It doesn't matter how tough you think you are, either, because you won't be after dealing with it over and over and over again. The ultimatum always ends up being about whether you're going to leave it behind and live, or stay and let it end you.
I don't know what I'm going to do. I feel like I don't fucking exist. The world feels fake... and full of monsters. I don't know what's actually real. Every day I wake up in limbo. I miss who I used to be.
My skull's been buzzing lately. There's some kind of desire in the back of my head that keeps poking at me, wanting me
to be more. Wanting me to toughen up, roll with the punches and get the hell out of this emotional pit. But it doesn't feel like
the desire alone is quite enough.
How much bullshit can a person just roll with before they fucking kill themselves? I feel like I'm gonna find out the answer to that soon, if things don't change.
And it's not for my lack of trying that I'm stuck here. I have been fighting to stay alive for the past year and a half. I am pushing myself to do the hard thing, the thing I don't want to do but should for my own good, and it doesn't fucking matter.
You can try and you can try, but if there is something sucking all your energy and joy out, it will end up killing you. It doesn't matter how tough you think you are, either, because you won't be after dealing with it over and over and over again. The ultimatum always ends up being about whether you're going to leave it behind and live, or stay and let it end you.
I don't know what I'm going to do. I feel like I don't fucking exist. The world feels fake... and full of monsters. I don't know what's actually real. Every day I wake up in limbo. I miss who I used to be.
>> 4/8/2025
It's here. My least favorite day on the calendar... A day of misfortune and death and life changing tragedy. It doesn't
seem fair, but I guess that's because it isn't. I guess after so many years dealing with this, I feel like I should have gotten over it.
Truly, though, I don't think I ever will, no matter how many times I'm told to by myself and others.
I have vented about this before, but never at any real length. Social media doesn't really allow for in-depth explainations; It feels too immediate and raw. So, let's see if I can get my feelings out here where my words will be obscured by the dust in this corner of the web.
On April 8th of 2001, my dad was taken from me and my family suddenly and violently. I was 5 years old, three weeks away from turning 6. I vaguely remember my family's attempt at throwing me a happy birthday party that year despite it all, but what I remember more is reaching my little hand into his casket to touch his cold, waxy corpse.
I shouldn't have been allowed to do this, but every adult at the time was so distraught, I guess it was kind of inevitable. I remember how shocking it was to experience. I didn't expect him to feel solid like a stone, and just as cold as one, too. It freaked me out, I remember asking my aunt about it and she gave me some shitty, untrue answer. Not that I blame her, what was she going to do? Explain to a 6 year old that its dad had actually been drained of his blood and it was all replaced with a chemical compound known as Formaldehyde, which preserves the body and- Yeah. Get real.
For a time after that I thought you turned to stone when you slept. Dumbass kid.
I do not remember his funeral in the least, and that is by far the most unnerving thing I deal with in relation to his death now. There is nothing there. No inklings of music that was played, no spotty memories of the church, nothing. It is truly as if it never happened. Especially since I can't get anyone who was an adult at the time to explain anything to me. I want the memory back, but there's no way for me to reach it. Dad's death is like some unspeakable thing. No one ever wants to think about how he was taken from us. It makes it difficult to remember him at all.
Fairly often I wonder what life would have been like had he not been killed. I wonder if I would even like him, or if I would find him overbearing and impossible. Maybe some of the terrible shit that's happened since his death could have been avoided, maybe my family wouldn't have broken into a bunch of tiny little pieces. Maybe we would have been normal, you know? Funny thought.
I don't know what to do with myself. Every time this day rolls around it's a toss-up on if I'll blissfully forget what day it is, or take a look at the calendar. Either way, a crushing wave of depression never fails to meet me here. I feel numb to the world, emotionally and physically. There is nothing on this planet that I want to do. Depression at its finest, y'know.
Well, anyway. Here's to another year without him, somehow still alive. It's been 24 years now, and soon I'll be the age he was when he passed. There's only a little time left. I don't know what to fucking do. What a horrible thought.
And of course I haven't forgotten about Pelle; he shares a death day with my dad with exactly 10 years in between them. He is also very important to me. I'll have to plant some flowers for them both in the memory garden down at the local cemetary. Then drink myself fucking blind.
It's here. My least favorite day on the calendar... A day of misfortune and death and life changing tragedy. It doesn't
seem fair, but I guess that's because it isn't. I guess after so many years dealing with this, I feel like I should have gotten over it.
Truly, though, I don't think I ever will, no matter how many times I'm told to by myself and others.
I have vented about this before, but never at any real length. Social media doesn't really allow for in-depth explainations; It feels too immediate and raw. So, let's see if I can get my feelings out here where my words will be obscured by the dust in this corner of the web.
On April 8th of 2001, my dad was taken from me and my family suddenly and violently. I was 5 years old, three weeks away from turning 6. I vaguely remember my family's attempt at throwing me a happy birthday party that year despite it all, but what I remember more is reaching my little hand into his casket to touch his cold, waxy corpse.
I shouldn't have been allowed to do this, but every adult at the time was so distraught, I guess it was kind of inevitable. I remember how shocking it was to experience. I didn't expect him to feel solid like a stone, and just as cold as one, too. It freaked me out, I remember asking my aunt about it and she gave me some shitty, untrue answer. Not that I blame her, what was she going to do? Explain to a 6 year old that its dad had actually been drained of his blood and it was all replaced with a chemical compound known as Formaldehyde, which preserves the body and- Yeah. Get real.
For a time after that I thought you turned to stone when you slept. Dumbass kid.
I do not remember his funeral in the least, and that is by far the most unnerving thing I deal with in relation to his death now. There is nothing there. No inklings of music that was played, no spotty memories of the church, nothing. It is truly as if it never happened. Especially since I can't get anyone who was an adult at the time to explain anything to me. I want the memory back, but there's no way for me to reach it. Dad's death is like some unspeakable thing. No one ever wants to think about how he was taken from us. It makes it difficult to remember him at all.
Fairly often I wonder what life would have been like had he not been killed. I wonder if I would even like him, or if I would find him overbearing and impossible. Maybe some of the terrible shit that's happened since his death could have been avoided, maybe my family wouldn't have broken into a bunch of tiny little pieces. Maybe we would have been normal, you know? Funny thought.
I don't know what to do with myself. Every time this day rolls around it's a toss-up on if I'll blissfully forget what day it is, or take a look at the calendar. Either way, a crushing wave of depression never fails to meet me here. I feel numb to the world, emotionally and physically. There is nothing on this planet that I want to do. Depression at its finest, y'know.
Well, anyway. Here's to another year without him, somehow still alive. It's been 24 years now, and soon I'll be the age he was when he passed. There's only a little time left. I don't know what to fucking do. What a horrible thought.
And of course I haven't forgotten about Pelle; he shares a death day with my dad with exactly 10 years in between them. He is also very important to me. I'll have to plant some flowers for them both in the memory garden down at the local cemetary. Then drink myself fucking blind.