mental illness

the demon that stalked her never really went away.
it just crawled into the shadows,
until it was time to play
with her thoughts and feelings 
and skewed her perceptions
turning her mind against her
with cruel deception

confusion

Tactile hallucinations are the worst.   if i hadnt spent so much time confirming they arent real, id say they are, well, real.  even now, feeling the crawling i am having trouble denying the existence of something climbing over me.  

i swat, and i scratch and sometimes i have to get up and pace.  

despite this the last two days have been better.  im on an upswing to to speak due to my own tampering.   

see, ive come to the conclusion that my meds arent BAD per say, but that i cant be on them 100%.  they drag me down, make me feel lifeless, depressed, uninspired.  so.  i stay on them long enough to regulate, go off for a little bit, come up until i start to feel crazy.   its this master plan we have concocted over the last week.  and when i say we i mean me and the little bastards that live in my head.   though im still not entirely convinced this is coming from my own head, that is what ive been told.     

i say we often now.  its a funny thing and i often gets odd looks....    We are going for a walk, we are working with the parrots, WE WE WE.    im never really alone anymore.  it only stands to reason to include them.

maybe i am cracked.  insane, crazy, Psychotic if you want to be politically correct.  maybe ive just gone off the deep end, off my rocker entirely bonkers.  whats the saying?  all the best people are?  ]

more and more i find myself segregated from the general public.  less in common with them.  the funny thing is, that the more i break away, the more i stand out and the more people reach out to me.    maybe its because im learning to embrace my uniqueness (read: insanity)  people find that courage empowering.    theirs something liberating talking about your underwear in front of a store full of strangers.  maybe its because im crazy.  maybe i just dont give a shit anymore.  

i guess my point is, while its sometimes exceedingly difficult to be different.  sometimes crippling, i really wouldnt have it any other way.  im learning to take the good with the bad.  learning to balance my two brain hemispheres and alternate between my dimension and yours.  ideally living on the border of the two worlds. 

so today i got confused over several things.  in hindsight, i really could have had a major meltdown.  but in true Alice fashion, i laughed it off and turned it around.  it didnt make what i was experiencing go away.  but the outcome was better/

i spend a lot of time thinking.   im actually quite introverted.  i like to reflect, and in turn, flip things around so they dont seem so bad.  sometimes i just need a day.  sometimes it seems i need an eternity.  but one thing is certain, if it takes an eternity, i'll spend it trying.

punishment and perseverance

its been a while since ive written anything due to a number of factors, but here i am, writing once more.  i suppose thats a good thing.  means im still here for whatever thats worth.  in this moment, though im still experiencing a lot of difficulties, im glad im here.   so many things took place that could have erased that.   could have erased me.  are things perfect.  no.  far from it, and there are many, MANY times i STILL dont want to be here.  but i have to remember that things arent always bad. and that there are things i can do to help myself.  i have to remember that i have a flock of rescued parrots that i love tremendously that would have nowhere to go without me.   that i hold value in this society. that just because bad things happen to me, does not make me a bad person.  

so right now, im struggling.  i have no idea how im going to make it through.  but i know one thing.  i owe it to myself to keep trying.

Art Therapy

i love to draw.  well.  i love and loathe it all at once.   typically because im so hard on myself when i draw or paint for it not being perfect.   but then what really is.
is it not flaws and imperfections that make us unique?  that million dollar painting with its cheap prints.  basically what i mean is its the quirks and uniqueness that make us valuable.  so many of us are trying to fit in when we were born to stand out.  
i have never fit it.  it has never bothered me though.  

off topic.
but anyway, ive taken up painting again.  im not GREAT.  but i enjoy it. and while im painting my mind isnt focused on demons and monsters and voices that tell me horrible things.

distractions are lovely things.
find one.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=giOP1o7Mre4

sometimes i wonder what the point of all this is.  
they say im ill.   i still question them but then really i question much these days.
i try and focus on the positives but at THIS moment that all seems a joke. being barraged with comments from my invisible tormentors takes its toll.   each time i enter the tunnel of madness i leave behind pieces of myself.
truth is, im not being positive.    and im tired of people telling me the same things over and over again.     this battle is killing me.   i am dying and its the loneliest fucking fight.     one that people are tiring of.  after all, how many times do you  try and help the same person.?   we cant all be saved.   im so damn tired.    i feel let down.   i feel so deeply sad i wonder if i will ever see happiness again.   i wonder if the me that was has already died.   the best thing that can happen now is that i go quietly in my sleep and happier things await me.    i wont die today.   or even next week.   but i wish i would.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAmPLkcXluY