Where are my Crayons....

It's super crazy how certain things can escalate in life. Sometimes, changes happen so quickly that you don't notice until it's too late. I think that's a bittersweet aspect of life. People think that just because they grow up, and become adults, that they drop habits they had as kids. That's probably true for some people, but not everybody. I think what happens, is that sometimes little habits just slowly turn into other things.

When I was younger, I think around age ten or so, I used to melt crayons onto my arms. I thought it was just because I liked how the colors looked on my skin. The way it felt, I didn't necessarily hate it, but it made me feel better when I did that. Now, I started doing that again, recently. Just as a random artistic thing to do. Only, I was wrong about why I was doing it before. I realized that, me doing that when I was younger, was where my self harm issue probably started. I mean, it doesn't hurt a lot by any means, but the slight burn is enough when you're ten years old. It started with the crayon melting, and unfortunately, it's escalated into a few other things. It's just so crazy to me that it never really went away. Clearly, my brain is wired wrong, because there will never be a time in what's left of my life, where I won't be hurting myself. Clearly, I'm wired wrong, because I don't see society and people in the same way that most people do. I've never felt right, I've always felt wrong, like there's a lot wrong with me. I can't be fixed, I'm beyond any kind of help. Most people would find that upsetting, and it's understandable. Me, I don't find it upsetting. It's just a sad but true fact. I was never meant to be alive. 

Contrary to popular belief, I don't really try to encourage the feelings that I have. At least not towards other people that are in my position. That makes me a huge hypocrite, I know. Honestly, it just breaks my heart knowing that other people have to feel like this. It's a pain so evil, that it controls every aspect of your life. In my experience, society seeks weaker people out. People see our tears, our scars, and insecurities, and use them to take us out. Sounds like I'm being dramatic, only I'm not. I've just been on this low level for such a long time. I wanted to help other people with these problems, I wanted to teach people how to survive. Well, the truth is....I can't help anybody because it turns out I don't know how to survive. Since I can't be helped, I have no right to try and guide others. It wouldn't be fair at all. Me not being in people's lives seems fair, and it makes more sense. I think it's important to be able to forgive yourself for the years that mental illness took away from your life. I can't forgive myself for that. 

Being strong enough to survive in our society today is so important. Sure, things seem to be changing for the better. It appears that minds are opening and acceptance is spreading. That makes me smile, I love that the world is changing. But, it's still way too scary. One of most terrifying things in this world is that you never know what somebody's true intentions are. I'm finding out the hard way, over and over again that more often than not, people's intentions are bad. Being a nice, friendly person means that your clingy and creepy. Trying to help, means you're being invasive and nosy. Backing away and staying and avoiding drama, makes you insensitive and bitchy. Being an emotional person that wants to talk things out, means that you're a weak baby, that needs to suck things up. If you don't like to be laughed at, or insulted, you're taking things too seriously, and need to lighten up. There is no winning, it's a mess. None of that is worth the pain of having people hate you for being who you are. 

I think that I'm being tortured by my own mind. Society, along with humanity, test me day by day, and I'm failing. Tested by the world, tortured by my own mental illness. It's just not a way to live. I wish that I could say, going back to being ten years old would make it better. I wish melting crayons on myself was enough. The truth is, I've escalated. I'm too far gone, and there is clearly no coming back.

Socially Acceptable Disease

♫ Disease by: Hollywood Undead ♫

Society today is blows my mind, and breaks my heart at the same time. At least, in my eyes, it seems to be more than some people are able to handle. Some of the behavior that I see from people that's become socially acceptable in this time, makes me feel like breaking down and crying tears of pure sadness for the world that we live in. It effects me that much. I'm sure if I was a stronger person, it wouldn't hit me so hard, but strength isn't really part of who I am anymore. I honestly don't even know who I am anymore.

Strength is a very tricky thing. It's a little funny to me, because it seems like most people only see it as a physical thing. It's so much more than that though. Strength is part of a persons mentality as well. If you lack it, you're considered to be "too sensitive" and that kills me. It's true, we're all human beings, but each of us is different in our own way. Some of us aren't as strong as others appear to be. Some of us believe that it's easier to bleed our problems out, than to talk about them. Some of us aren't capable enough to live like others. Some of us see beauty in things that most people don't. Even if that beauty is in death. Even if that beauty lays within something that most people view as ugly, or too different for their taste. Everybody is entitled to their own opinion. Everybody is entitled to feel how they want to feel. Only, these days, through my eyes, most people are taking the negative side. Difference is "bad" and "normal" is good. Only, the "normal" part is what makes me want to go to sleep, and never wake up. It's socially acceptable to hate difference. Even things that are out of anybody's control. People aren't accepted to be themselves, they can't be themselves without being criticized or judged. That isn't something that I'm able to deal with easily, it makes me sad. It upsets me since I am one of those people, and because I know others that live with that. Every single day. I just think living in a world like this is such a waste. It has it's perks. Beautiful things to see, and amazing music to hear. It used to be enough to keep me safe, but not so much anymore. Nobody is safe anymore. 

I wouldn't raise kids in this world, I absolutely would not. Here's one reason why, and also  something that frustrates me like nothing else. 

"Having balls" supposedly means that you're tough, and the word "pussy"somehow equals weakness. Yet, a slight flick to a man's balls puts him on the ground in the fetal position. Whole human beings come out of vaginas, but having one somehow qualifies as being weak. Yay people and society! I say that with every ounce of sarcasm in my body. I'm sorry, I really am, but that is nonsense to me. Fighting it seems right, but it won't change. Yes, the world has evolved and progressed, but nothing can save some of us. I wake up everyday, wishing that I hadn't. I am in constant pain, physically and mentally. Not that most people would know, I have a mask on most of the time. I'm starting to understand how people in my life really feel about me, and how me being around effects people. Ultimately, I don't really think that I should be in anybody's life. That's not me insulting people and saying that nobody's good enough for me. I'm saying that I'm not good for anybody. I feel like the biggest piece of trash on the planet. It's painful, but probably not as painful as having to put up with me. I love my friends, the real ones and even not so real ones. After years of being naive to people's attitudes towards me, I'm finally starting to see how people really feel. It's not something that I can really deal with. Spending so much time inside of your own head, it does this sometimes. It kind of opens up little rivers inside of your head, only instead of water flowing around, it's everything negative that you're dealing with. It's people's hateful words, it's mistakes you've made, the what if questions. You question every decision you've ever made, and end up wanting to punish yourself for the bad decisions. At least that's what happens with me. Inside of my head is a scary place, and I am very thankful that nobody else has to be there but me. I give people so much credit to people who actually have the strength to survive life. Unfortunately, I'm just not one of those people.