going fucking insane.

Alright. I have no idea why I’m doing this. It could be in part because I just read Dig’s blog and it was amazing and hilarious (not being cocky even though half of it was about me) and it inspired me or it could be because I’m on a Skype call with two amazing people or it could be because I looked at my blog and felt guilty. Is guilt a good reason to write a blog? Probably not. I should want to write this blog. I should visit my dashboard every few days and just want to write. But I don’t. Honestly, I’ve gone to this website about three times since my last entry; May first. That would be ridiculous if I gave half a shit, which I don’t. Does anyone else? … no.

Why haven’t I blogged? Oh, that’s right. I have no motivation.

I have this really neat dissociative disorder called depersonalization. It’s really terrible, but one of the symptoms is lack of motivation. Looking at something and having no mental or emotional energy to get up and do it. I could be wide afuckingwake, have just drank six Mt Dews, whatever, and I’ll stare at the computer and think of blogging and then go and throw up. Actually, I’d think about throwing up but not be motivated to do that either.

But no one wants to read about that, do they?

No. What you probably want to hear is how content I am right now, which I actually am. Dig is letting me use her laptop while she sleeps, and I’m stealing a lot of her amazing music off of iTunes. This girl has wonderful taste. I’ve found about sixty songs that make my heart smile, and I’m only to the C’s.

God. You don’t care. Nothing is interesting.

I stare at the computer and I am seeing the computer, but at the same time I have no idea what a computer is or even where are the keys are or what they mean or what language I’m writing in or even what a language is, and what are the hands moving, whose hands are they that are typing, how do they know to type, how are they even typing when there is nothing controlling them, what are hands anyways and how does one control them, who is one and where is this person, what is a person, I don’t understand anything.

I cannot get out from behind this fucking glass wall that separates me from everything. It is seriously the most awful thing. I don’t even know what reality feels like. What is it like. Can you smell things? I can smell things sometimes but I’m not really smelling them because it’s not really me. My brain is about three fourths someone elses and one fourth mine and the fourth that is mine is not even mine because I’m so trying to concentrate on getting the three fourths back or trying to make the one fourth more whole but there is something blocking it that I can’t get around. I can see things but I can’t really see them. I see through things. I have to blink a lot and things are still not REAL. FUCK. Fuck! I can’t live like this much longer.

I asked my mom to call a psych a few weeks ago and she said she would. But she didn’t. I thought I was going to get help and I was feeling semi-relieved but now I am about 92374918273918273 times more worried that she will continue to forget. She doesn’t understand the PERPETUAL HELL that is my life. I am not being dramatic and I am not being angsty I just can’t get the fuck out of here. It’s a fucking dream and I cannot wake up. fuck. fuck. FUCK.

This was a bad idea. I’m really sorry. You don’t have to comment if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m sorry if reading this made you uncomfortable.

I’ll probably make a new blog for these feelings. Ugh.

N

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~ by junkinmahcranium on July 16, 2010.

6 Responses to “going fucking insane.”

  1. Howdy, reading your post didn’t make me uncomfortable because I can relate. Don’t know if it will help but after sorting through the mess for like ten years I stumbled onto this book http://www.borders.com/online/store/TitleDetail?sku=0316043419

    I’m not one who usually buys into a lot of mainstream bullshit, I also hate religion and refuse to take most medication cause’ most likely it will fuck you up worse… but this book nailed it right on the head. No meds, no spiritual mumbo jumbo it just explains why I felt so disconnected from life and about ten other things I have struggled with.

    Anyway, don’t want to go on and on here but if you do make another blog, let me know I’d like to read that one as well…

    • Hey. Well, I do have depression, but that’s because depression is a common symptom of depersonalization, which I have. That link is extremely helpful though, I’m going to try to find that book. I believe that in order to fight the bigger battles [depersonalization] you have to first tackle the littler ones [depression]. Thank you for your input.

      I’ll let you know through this blog, if that’s cool.

  2. This is probably going to sound weird, but this post helped me. Not that I feel the same way, because I don’t, I can’t really relate at all, except for the effort thing, but mine is procrastination, and that’s it. But it helped in the way of understanding you a little more. Knowing that you’re sad tweets aren’t just bad days, or feeling down, but there is more there. I mean, not that I thought you were just angsty before, I knew something was there, but I didn’t know what it was. Now I understand a wee bit more. I hope your mom calls for you soon. Can you call and leave her a message at work to remind her? Or leave her a note? Or send her a text if she texts? That’s what I have to do to remind my mom of anything, find ways so she will see it when she has time to do the task.
    Good luck! Remember, while none of your friends are probably experiencing the same thing you’re experiencing, we will always listen! Or at least M will I’m sure, and I will too!

    • No, that’s not weird. I’m really glad that you do. That wasn’t my aim, obvia, but I’m glad that that happened because I am so tired of being cryptic and not being able to tell everyone what’s wrong. I need an outlet and sometimes saying ‘fuck fuck fuck” into Twitter is not enough.

      I really appreciate you, Marina. I know I texted you this but I just do. This comment and the fact that you read this entire blog without judging and just had the most supportive comment .. idk. I just really needed this. Thank you.

      I know that sometimes friends can’t fix things completely, but they can make minutes or hours or days just that little bit better, which you did. So thank you.

      As for telling my mom to .. I’ve just been mentioning it a lot. I mentioned it four times today in the nine hour car ride. I’ll mention it tomorrow and the next day and the next day and if she doesn’t call within four days I’m going to do it myself. Cuz I seriously can’t take it much longer.

      Anyways, thank you again. ❤

  3. Hey N-Dawg. (Sorry if that’s a completely light and inappropriate greeting, but I’m not too sure you’d mind and yeah. Plus, I miss you already and saying hey to you sounds like something I’d like to do. So, hey.) Anyway. There are many things I can say in response to this, although saying them would probably be repetitive and unhelpful and ranty, so I’ll refrain from shooting you with a giant paragraph. Especially someplace to public. I mean, obviously you blogged about it publicly so I’m sure you don’t mind about the publicness of it, but I’m still uneasy expressing important and very raw emotional thoughts publicly, so I’ll refrain from doing that. Also because we can talk about this any time you would like to (any time, really, just ring me up, or Skype me, or text me, or that freaky carrier pigeon you’re friends with or anything) and we’ve talked about this in person and so I don’t have any kind of new feedback (feedback seems like the wrong word… hmm, I dunno) or anything, so I’ll just leave it simple. (“lmfao”, that was long and I haven’t even said anything yet.)

    Basically dude, I don’t think you need to make a new blog, unless *you* truly want to, for starting over purposes or something. The people who read this blog love you and want to hear what you have to say, and if it’s too heavy or uncomfortable or something, well, fuck them, and they can leave. Was that too harsh? Idfk. Whatever. I know I’ll always read whatever you have to say (contrary to some fucking thing I posted on my blog about that, which I recently read back and am now very concerned about who was writing that because I don’t feel that way at all) no matter the mood of it. Also, please don’t be sorry. It’s your blogs, it’s your feelings, you shouldn’t apologize for them. I love you. I miss you. You’re amazing. You’re ultra snuggly and I even miss those prickly legs. I hope your mom calls soon.

    Love and hugs from your crazy best friend,
    M-Dig ❤

    PS. Sorry for the novel.

    • The reason this is public is because I’m sick of just .. being cryptic and shit. Besides, I needed a place to write and cry and my journal was across the room and I would’ve had to step on you to get there. (joke.)
      So the publicness, no problem, no worries, hakuna matata. I know we have talked in person so that whole paragraph is :).

      That makes me feel better, honestly. Not you specifically, but you + everyone else who reads this .. well I was worried that no one would comment or read or care. And that probably makes me the saddest; talking and crying and reaching out and having no one respond. I remember typing up onesadmad blog about a year ago, and no one commented. There were only about four views on the post. Something terrible. And I felt so sick to my stomach. And from then on I just felt like I had to act superhappy in my own fucking blog! I had to be happy and cute and hilarious all the time and that fake attitude just took so much out of me and made me not want to write anymore. So I didn’t. But what you just said there, Dig, makes a lot of difference. So thank you.

      I have not shaved yet. JUST FOR YOU.

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