avatarofacedia - Tumblr blog

avatarofacedia · 9 months

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I always thought the "better" I was doing/the more I achieved the worse I felt, but that's not it. The harder I try, the less energy I have to ignore how bad I feel.

I just want to feel better, but the uphill battle is nearly a vertical cliff fall.

I can't stand without my feet going numb. I can't sit without my feet going numb.

My wrists feel like rusted metal.

Binding triggers my asthma.

I am beyond sensitive to heat and get heat stroke constantly. Binding of it makes it worse.

My eyes burn constantly.

I have a 15 year long headache that becomes a migraine if I'm in light too long.

I also get migraines from sudden loud noises, or constant loud noise.

I get cluster migraines "suicide headaches" on an almost monthly basis or more.

I have TMJ which also causes migraines.

Due to my feet, I have been walking funny for 19 years which have caused ankle pain.

I basically have year-long allergies that make it hard to breathe.

I am allergic to basically everything mainstream.

Fucking. I'm done for now. I'm tired of feeling like shit. I don't know how I'm supposed to do this for another year let alone the rest of my pathetic ass life.

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avatarofacedia · 10 months

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2 Years Sober

I have been sober for two years and I want so desperately to break that. I miss how fast every week went. That year of my life feels like a second in my memory. life has gone by so agonizingly slow. I don't want to do it anymore. I just want to be on my death bed.

#journal #acedia #tw depressing stuff #sober #sobriety #struggle #i want to relapse #recovering addict #depression #depressing shit #im a fucking failure #if there was alcohol in this house id be drunk right now #trans #transgender #lgbt #asexual #aromantic

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avatarofacedia · 11 months

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srsly please get off the internet and think about something other than the inside of your own head for 2 seconds

try taking your own advice instead of pretending to know a stranger on the internet enough to give advice 🤷🏻

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avatarofacedia · 1 year

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I Want to be Comfortable

I have heard many times that living my life as a trans person; I am asking for it. I am asking to be verbally assaulted in public. I am asking to be physically assaulted in public. I am asking to be murdered. Am I?

Does wearing clothes I feel most comfortable in mean I want to be beat? Does using a name that reflects who I am mean I want to be killed? Am I asking for it? Or am I just alive, living? For what reason should I hide? Why must I hold shame over who I am? Why shouldn't I exist as do others? Why would I hide? I feel no shame in who I am. No regret. No hesitation.

Am I asking for it?

I can tell you what I am asking. Not happiness. Not for your kids to be trans. Not for you to be trans. Not for gender to be eradicated. I love being a man.

I am asking for comfort in a body that has never brought me peace. I want to be able to leave my house on a whim and not need to get dressed first. I want to walk freely without being hunched over. I want to be able to sit without the discomfort. I want to be able to lie on my side without misery. I want to wake up without feeling like peeling my skin off with a vegetable peeler. I want to be able to speak without whispering. I want to be heard. Not your idea of me. Not her. But him. Me. Does my pursuit to comfort condone my mistreatment? My rape? My murder?

I certainly did not ask for this. An instinct as old as time. Oft erased. Ignored. But very real. I am not a parade. I am human.

I am sorry if other's peace brings you such discomfort. I implore you to start living for yourself and stop seeking comfort in the conformity of others or conformity of yourself.

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avatarofacedia · 1 year

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“It gets better”

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avatarofacedia · 2 years

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Therapy issues

The issue I face with therapy is being treated like another person with depression. I do not mean that in a diminishing way. Depression is a hellscape. I am sorry to anyone that has to face this torment. However, I have always been depressed. My first suicide attempt was around 5 years old. I was overzealous, loud, and obnoxious. Anything to overshadow what I knew about myself. I was overreactive. Overcompensating happiness I never felt. Maybe I did once. But I cannot fathom that. Every time I see a new therapist and try to establish how messed up I am, I’m met with, “You enjoyed XYZ, so there’s hope.” I cannot say with full certainty that I enjoyed it. I do not do things doe fun. I do them to pass the day away. That is always a factor in my activities; how much time will this take from me? How much closer to death can I be? If anything, my time spent with friends, can I even call them friends, makes me feel worse. I leave every interaction exhausted. Ans full of regret. I’m using them. I don’t enjoy our time together in the same way. They are a tool I use to get through another day as quickly as possible. I can smile. I can joke around. I can laugh. I can have a good time. But if anything, my enjoyment is a mask.

I’m sure the thought, “Why are you still here, then?” has echoed in your heads. Is it better left unanswered?

I am simply not good at dying. The things I have done to this body; how I have not been hospitalized for organ failure is truly an anomaly to science. Next time I may not be so kind as to make the mess as small as possible. I do not want to burden someone with my grey matter all over the walls. If I am to leave, I want it to be easy on anyone dealing with this scrap of a body. But that proves most difficult. Guess that’s a silver lining. So long as my body remains that of a cockroach, I wont be dying anytime soon.

#therapy #vent #depression #tw depressing stuff #depressing shit #issues #tw #i need therapy #dont mind me #dont mind my rambling #you ever feel so damn hopeless? kind words make you feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet.#people try so hard to make you feel better and all they do is remind you how bitter you are #things never do get better #do they?#hopeless #personality disorder #dissociation #dissociative #structural dissociation

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avatarofacedia · 2 years

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Can you hear me

Whispering

Into the wind

Desperately

Everything is dead

So take my head

I’m through fighting it

Let me rest

The vacancy behind my eyes

There It lies

My demise

Can you hear me

I am screaming

Please don’t let me out alive

Bones

White as snow

Petrified

Brittle stone

Take me out back

Venom comes shooting straight out of my pours

Bitter intentions have me a bore

Take me out back

To the forest

Of woes

Can you hear me

I am pleading

Let me go

Back to the snow

My heart is too heavy

I can hardly breathe

Everything is red

Stained red

Drip slow

Fade fast

I’ll hold my head up high in shame

I guess I am the one to blame

Reactionary invocations

Are driving me insane

It’s time to say goodbye

To this life of mine

Oh my, how time flies

Pretty pictures will all fade away

Time spent alone here is not wasted at all

6 feet deep, can you hear me breathe

I know I’m not alone here I can hear you scream

Time will not sleep

So close your eyes and rest here awhile

The air is so thin here

I guess I’ll disappear

#song #song lyrics #sad songs #song writing #lyrics #new song #lyric posting #original writing #original music #original poem #writing #gothic #goth #goth poetry #moody #dark aesthetic #feedback #feedback appreciated

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avatarofacedia · 2 years

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The Elephant Crushing Me

I can't tell you I am sorry. To be so, I would need to give you a promise. That I cannot do. I have held on years too long. The number of attempts and the half-baked self-destructive foils has left me shambled at my own hand. I don't want to hurt you. That's the only reason I have made it this long.

Now... In all honesty, I don't know if I really love you. I assume that I do. Why else would I care so much? What else would be preventing me from what I desire most? I know I do not have a healthy life- I don't have a model of what love really is. I know you love me, but love over a phone leaves much to be lost. I’m not so sure what love really is, so I cannot say for certain if I do or not. I feel like a liar either way.

...

I have been hurt over Daniel. So much more than I would ever care to admit. I know you don't remember, but I stopped talking to you for three months after finding out he was calling me "it." I've been so confused since then. I felt so betrayed. And I never want to sway you into a way of thinking. I'm always so careful with how I say things because I want you to be able to have your own opinions. Maybe I tried protecting you too much; held you far too close. I could never tell you this. I feel like I lost you then. And life has been so much worse ever since. I haven't been able to find stable ground.

I feel it is best to never face you again. I don't know how I could ever bear to. Even the image of you in my head is tainted. I have lost all direction. Colorado is no longer a dream. I don't know how this will ever be mended. If it even could.

Each day weighs so much more than it ever has. I lost much of myself that day. I hoped you'd break up with him. When you did, I was so hopeful. I held back so much because I wanted you to be able to choose. I want so much for you. Every bone in my body wanted to gaslight you. Every time you ask about him, I have to avoid it. I hate him. Truly. Deeply. And I hate even more that you're with him.

Marrying him broke the barrier. I could no longer hide from the reality that I lost that part in me that valued you so much. The disrespect he showed meant so little. I don't know. It was my fault for relying on you so much. I'm sorry. I won't do that again. I guess that's why I'm here writing a bloody blog instead of a suicide note.

I still care about you deeply. I wish you the best in the world. More than what I could ever give to you.

I know this will not be held over well. I cannot ask you not to be sad. All I can ask is you do not let any grievance prevent you from living. Take all you deserve. And then some because I know you will undersell yourself.

#letter to a friend #getting this off my chest #never the same #silent letters #i feel betrayed #betrayal #you betrayed me #i've been betrayed #when i said you are the company you keep you went quiet. is it because you knew i was hinting at you? in that moment did you feel guilty?#did you ever think about me #how it would hurt?#i never wanted to hurt you #i have lived through all this pain so i wouldn't hurt you #i loved you #i guess im a hypocrite

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avatarofacedia · 2 years

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My Will (just in case)

I am to be burned without a funeral. Do not weep over this body. Do not reminisce over this body. Do not package the ashes left from this vessel for I am not there. To adorn yourself with the ashes, store them in your house, is to deface me. There is no bigger disrespect you could do unto me. Cast away this body. Discard it in the trash where is belongs. If you desire a piece of me, take with you my essence. Those who knew me will be able to carry me. Those who dreamt of this body will not. Have you any hesitation in where you lie in these statements you find your answer. I am not with you.

Holding hope for even a moments thought that I would go back to being that girl, I am not with you. I hold no forgiveness. For every ill word. Every ill intent. I give you no respite. I am not with you. Any apology you can muster is not enough, for it is too late. If you ever comfortably talked behind my back. If you believe that you’re are exempt because of blood ties. I am not with you.

If you hold blood ties to me, I am not with you.

If you do not know why I am not with you, only shows the comfortability you had to throw me aside for a vision you held of this body. I am not with you.

What little I have is to be donated to LGBT+ organizations. Whatever else simply donate. Give to the poor communities that must suffer through this hell.

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avatarofacedia · 2 years

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Too Much

Doing some reading I found “structural dissociation.” That could make sense. Having the Self and the Traumatized self. Not quite DID. But I’m definitely not alone in my head.

« Under normal circumstances, we would want to avoid our abuser and never go back to them. When we were a child, however, we had to stay. We had few options, and even when our parents hurt us, we could not leave. So instead of physically exiting, we psychologically withdrew. »

Reality makes me ill.

« If we knew our parents could not tolerate disobedience, or that we would be punished for creating conflicts, it made sense for us to swallow the pain rather than risk confronting them. We dared not be critical of the authority whose goodwill was essential to our survival.

This may result in the psychodynamic process of "turning against oneself," where we redirect anger and resentment for others toward ourselves. Our righteous anger became internalized guilt and shame that were unbearable, so we had to create a "separate self" in our mind to survive the invasion. »

I held onto so much self hatred. For years I chanted in my head everything was my fault. Everything was my fault.... I wanted to stop but I couldn’t seem to stop my self destruction.... I wanted it all to stop.

Will this make a difference?

« Chronically traumatized individuals can suffer from a form of dissociation known as structural dissociation, which is a lack of cohesion and integration of personality. Structural dissociation causes the inability to regulate emotions and a chronic feeling of emptiness within.

Having structural dissociation means we are split into different parts, each with a different personality, feelings, and behavior. As a result, we feel completely different from moment to moment. One moment we feel strong and happy, the next moment we feel empty and numb, then we feel rage. It might all happen suddenly without an apparent trigger. »

I feel nothing... Yet I feel everything.

« Despite carrying painful memories, people with complex trauma still have to find a way to get on with their normal lives. In order to do that, we develop a "normal" facade—this is our "normal self." This part of us feels little, remembers little, hardly feels any hunger, desires, or sadness, and is an efficient worker. While on the surface we seem to function fine, the "traumatized self" may from time to time burst through, causing uncontrollable and apparently unexplainable behaviors.

We carry our traumatized self everywhere we go.

Our traumatized part sees danger, criticisms, and abandonment everywhere, and has a hard time receiving love.

It is frozen in time, so when our traumatized part takes over, we feel like a child in an adult body.

It is always on guard, always waiting to be harmed or betrayed.

It controls our body and emotions in ways we are not always conscious of. For instance, when we grind our teeth at night, or when we burst into an uncontrollable rage.

We Start Avoiding Life »

Life is poison.

« The Wise, Healthy Part

Apart from the Apparently Normal Part and the Traumatized Part, there is another essential part of us: Our Wise Part. No matter how traumatized we are, our innate driving force towards wholeness and health does not cease completely.

When we are being self-critical, our wise part whispers in our ears telling us we are worthy of love.

It absorbs wisdom from loved ones, teachers, and resources, then acts as our inner guiding light. »

Maybe he’s dead. There never seems to be that voice.

« It is the part of us that honors our authenticity and tell us to be honest with our feelings. »

Or he’s really fucking quiet.

Though, it doesn’t matter, does it? I’ll keep putting up the act. I moved onto animated my rig today. Told everyone I was proud. I don’t really feel anything. No accomplishment. Just tired. I can’t wait until the end of the year. Or whenever the stories dry up.

Maybe it does matter. I can identify the Traumatized part. I can see what he’s ben hiding from me. Find more stories to tell. Explain how I am better. Give better meaning and reason for leaving.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/living-emotional-intensity/201907/do-you-have-normal-part-and-traumatized-part

#acedia #depression #did #dissociative #dissociation #structural dissociation #ptsd #cptsd #learned something new #educating #education #mental health #mental illness #journal #discover

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avatarofacedia · 2 years

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This one was hard on me

We live in a world where a man can write a 100-page manifesto about targeting a minority group and killing them. In a world like this, why would I want to live on? The support I have is 1,391 miles away. Other than what feels like hollow words over a phone, what support is that? When I can hardly imagine her as a person anymore. She doesn't exist in my brain.

Remember when I stabbed Preston? I shoved a pencil in his thigh. He would show me his penis. Try things with me. I don't know why I didn't say anything. Though, I doubt anyone would have believed me.

One night I remember well, we were at the house on Beebe street. Everyone was out back. I had gone inside for whatever reason; He was there as well. He pulled his penis out and told me to show him mine. I played dumb. Not like there was much to see. He kept doing that until he got fed up and stood up. Someone called for me. I don't know what he would have done. But it was stopped.

One night I don't want to remember. I don't fully remember. I don't know who it was with, even. But I was alone with someone I didn't want to be around because they were always so sexual. I remember him being close to me and being uncomfortable. I closed my eyes. That's it. I like to think nothing happened. It's better that way.

I should have stood up for myself. That statement stands for every phase of my life. I only recently learned how to do that. A bit late now, though. This is my biggest shame.

Chasity is such a big stain on my judgment. I wanted so bad to be a "normal straight boy." I didn't want to be asexual. I didn't want to be gay. I tried so hard to be straight. And with my luck, the first girl I happened upon was just another narcissist. She would stay over on the weekends. Then she started staying during the week. Eventually, she never left. All within two months.

I tried desperately to break up with her after three months. Nothing worked. It took me a month to gain the courage to do it the first time. She cried as I expected. She took my attempt to console her as me taking her back. Like a coward, I didn't stand up for myself. I felt guilty. Though, I did keep trying each week. Each week I would try to offer comfort as a response to her crying, and she'd go on like it didn't just happen.

We were at the trailer park when she started getting off on me. She'd grind on my leg. I was too awkward to make her stop. So she proceeded. Due to my silence, I shamed myself. It progressed to me pressing into her to hopefully get it over faster. Soon she'd take my hand and put it down her pants.

I began initiating contact as a form of self-harm. I deserved it, I thought. If it was really that bad, I would stop, right? I think that's the worst I've ever self-harmed. Everywhere. It was so hard to move. Every limb, my chest, stomach, feet. This went on for what felt like years.

I don't want to talk about what happened next. But this is what I created this account for.

She began pushing me to go down on her.

It happened after a few rejections and guilt-tripping.

I tried killing myself.

She laughed.

She is a parasite. A vile plague of morbid muddy matter. That year is bile in my veins. I will never be free from it.

Every sexual comment, from everyone, echoes in my head. They make me feel disgusted. I can’t walk without feeling like what I’m doing is being perceived as sexual. I can’t bend over in public without checking to make sure no one is around. I avoid anything and everything that can and can’t be perceived as sexual because I am disgusted in all that is human now. I am completely, utterly, repulsed.

#depression #tw depressing stuff #sexual assult #rape #acedia #journal #vent #hate #this was hard #crazy ex #crazy ex girlfriend

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avatarofacedia · 2 years

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Imposter

I am a liar. A fake. Everyone gets a masquerade of voices I do not believe in. I have lied to everyone. I have lied to myself. I have created my own instability. A stranger walks in what should be my skin. It was never meant to be mine.

#tw depressing stuff #depresstion #acedia #journal #liar #imposter

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avatarofacedia · 2 years

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Who Am I?

I have wondered for a while now; who am I? I am lost to the fluidity of time. Each day I live I try to grasp at the gravityof time, but it never fails to drag me into the fog. I look back to memories and it's as if I am remembering a story long since told by another. I cannot look back into my own eyes reflected. Memories are roulette each day. I can write something down today and forget all about it tomorrow. I can say things to someone that don't sound like me. Or the present me, I guess.

So, am I me? Am I many? I feel solid enough. But I proceed to defy myself. I don't think I have "multiple personalities." Maybe I do. I don't know enough about DID to say. Nor do I have the resources to get help. Is there something else? All I know, is I don't like me. "Me." Any of them that show. I hate them all.

#journal #acedia #mental health #my personality #personality #questioning #life #lost #mentally exhausted #mentally drained #mentally fucked #dissociation #dissociative #crisis #quarter life crisis

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