Reoccurring Connection between Love & Evil

Reoccurring Connection Between Love & Evil

Reoccurring nightmares haunt people like me, for years. Nightmares are bad memories and fear that are stuck in your brain. That's my opinion, I'm not stating that as a fact. When a nightmare repeats itself over and over again, that means it has implanted itself into your brain, and has zero plans to vacate. Again, simply my opinion. To me, that's terrifying, I feel for people who have reoccurring nightmares, because I know how much it hurts. I know how frightening it can be. It's very easy to get frustrated, especially with yourself. I get angry with myself, because I don't know how to get these nightmares out of my head. Let me paint you a picture, a very scary one.

I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, below there is nothing but fire and the voices of people screaming. Somebody always screams "I'm burning for being myself." Every single time, and it makes me cry. In my left ear, somebody whispers "Crying doesn't save you, it only makes you weak." My left ear is ripped off. I can't scream, my mouth has been sewn shut. In my right ear, a whisper...."Everything you are is sin, and that is why you have to stay forever." My right ear is ripped off, and I'm pushed from the cliff into the fire below. I feel myself burning, and the nightmare ends.

My worst enemy could ask me to give them that experience, and I would refuse. I have a few theories about that nightmare, regardless, I wish that it would stop haunting me. The strangest thing about it, is that it connects to a reoccurring dream I have. Let me paint you a much prettier picture.

I'm sitting on a beach at night, surrounded by a circle of people. I don't recognize these people, but it feels like these people are my friends. I see that they are talking, and laughing but I can't hear their voices. I hear guitar music, and the waves. It smells like Fantasia incense, and burning firewood. There are so many stars in the sky, it makes me cry. In my left ear, a loving voice tells me "It's okay to cry, it makes you human." I'm kissed on my left cheek, somebody holds my left hand. In my right ear, I hear, "We love you for you, please stay with us forever." I'm kissed on my right cheek, and my right hand is held. I close my eyes, and that's the end. 

I feel lucky when I have that dream. Most mornings, I cry when I wake up because it makes me sad that I'm still alive. When I have that dream, I don't cry because I'm sad. I cry, because I'm happy. The nightmare came first, and it scares me as much now as it did the first time it happened. I needed it to be a one time occurrence, but of course, it was not. The second time it happened, I knew it was here to stay, and I was devastated. Having that kind of evil in my head makes me feel like a monster. I grew up thinking that my appearance and personality would send me to Hell. I've said it before, this is a place where differences are not welcomed with open arms. Something must have triggered me, because lost memories are coming home. The nightmare started months ago.

The dream started a few weeks ago, and I knew right away where it came from. It's so similar to the nightmare, it wasn't hard for me to figure it out. My brain created a counter world to escape that nightmare. That nightmare scares me so much, that I created it's much nicer cousin, without even knowing it. I didn't go to sleep thinking "I need to push the nightmare away with a better world"....it just happened. They're both so short, the length of a dream or nightmare that fades the very second you open your eyes. These don't fade, they hover than hide until they're ready to come out and play again. The nightmare is a Hell issue obviously. So, anybody could assume that the dream is a Heaven thing. Only, it's not. The nightmare feels like Hell, the dream doesn't feel like Heaven. It just feels like a better place, one that I could be in and not hear the monsters all the time. They're so loud these days, I can barely hear anything else. I drown them out with music as often as I can. There's lyrics to match the dream.

♫"This is happiness, to be everything at once.

Be un-blinded, be unlearned, be unbridled and un-burned." ♫

Those lyrics are from a song called "No Parallels" by Hands like Houses. One of my favorite songs and bands ever. Anyways, the lyrics remind me of the place in my dream. I haven't been able to match lyrics to the nightmare, but I believe that to be a positive thing. 

I have a pretty solid idea of what's coming my way soon. I'm scared, but, it's alright. This world isn't a place that I need to be, there is no help. Not for me. I'm still okay with that. I just hope whoever takes my place, has a purpose. 

Bittersweet Little Gifts & The Desire To Leave This World

Being hugged by somebody who actually thinks you're worth something, is pure magic. Especially when you know that you're not worth anything. I have to admit, knowing that I'm an utterly useless human being is bittersweet. Bitter, because I seem to be in the way a lot. More often than not, I'm taking up space, or holding somebody back. I don't have the right to do that, especially not to people who have actual purpose. The sweet part is, when I'm not here anymore, it frees up a spot for somebody better. Somebody that is actually worth something. That makes me feel pretty elated. For the longest time now, I've felt that my existence is unfair. Not to me, but to other people. It's my belief that I was never supposed to be here. Some people disagree with that, but it's what I think, and it's how I feel. I get genuinely confused when I wake up in the morning, it just hurts my feelings now. Not all lives are a joke, I respect people's sense of resolve. I think my life is a joke though, and the punchline just never comes. When it does, I don't know if I'll laugh or cry, maybe I'll do both. Maybe my reaction will be painfully neutral. I have a few different horrifying reoccurring nightmares. Dreams as well, but more nightmares than dreams. Waking up every morning feels like one of those. I know what some people say.

"Life is a gift, and should be appreciated."

I don't entirely disagree with that, but I just don't believe that my life is a gift. I wish I did, but it just doesn't feel that way to me. I believe certain parts of my life are gifts. Like, fireworks. They turn me into goo. I remember, I used to think that after fireworks went off....they turned into the stars. I wish that I still believed that. Naivety saves my heart, I wish I was still naive to lot of things. Fireworks are tiny exploding miracles, and even though they don't turn into the stars, they're still a gift. On the other hand, my life as a whole is not. This world, where we all exist, is filling with Evil. Pure evil and poison.  There's starving people everywhere, but somebody's pissed off that my skin is the color a milk chocolate. People are getting away with disgusting things like, abuse, rape and murder. Yet, people are pissed off because a man wants to kiss another man, or a woman wants to marry another woman. There seems to be terrorists everywhere. What is it about humans that makes other humans want to terrorize them? I don't understand it, and I'm not really sure that I want to understand it. Hatred is fueling everybody now. It's like the majority of people in this world forgot how to love. Treating people nicely, and with respect has somehow become turned into something else. People make it seem like it's the wrong thing to do. That's super sad, it breaks my heart. Everybody is stressed, and taking it out on each other. People are so enthralled with social media that they forget about actual communication. It's all so frustrating, and being trapped within this chaos is only doing more damage to my very fragile existence. There's so much more about this world that breaks my heart, but I don't have to name every single little thing. I trust that some people see the same evil that I do. 

I honestly just wish that people could or would pay more attention to the good things. There are beaches covered with pink sand. There are beaches covered in black sand. Can you imagine how amazing it would be to see that? I know it would bring me so much peace. If I had the chance to lay on a beach with sand those colors, I could die with the biggest smile on my face. I would burn Fiesta Lime incense and play music by Tom Day. I could get lost in that forever. That's just me, I know that, but it's a picture I've painted inside of my mind. I wished more people did that, and if they do, I hope they share it with me. I'd like to know about pictures people paint in their minds. Even if that's just a far off dream, it's one of the good things I think about all the time. Even knowing that it will never happen, the thought is enough to make me smile for a few minutes on my worst day. I get so worried about people in my life. People that I know are worth so much, but are sad. I used to be able to make people happy. Being a good friend means so much to me, but I no longer have the ability to make people feel better. I can't make people happy anymore. My issues are in the way, my head is broken, my thoughts are dark and scary, and my spirit is dying. My spirit is sick, and suffering, and has been for the longest time. There's this song called "Little Black Cloud" by Crazy Town. That's the same band that had the one hit wonder, "Butterfly." The chorus was simple, bu the lyrics always appealed to me.

♫"I got a little black cloud that follows me, everywhere I go, it takes over me."♫

That song came out in 1999, and I still listen to it to this day. There are times when I feel like I have that cloud over me. Other times, I feel like I am that cloud. People always say things like "You're in control of your own happiness." Fine. If that's what your opinion is, than fine. Only, that isn't always true. People with mental health problems don't always have the option of being in control. We have demons, and they tell us how to feel, they tell us how to think. They control our actions, our words, and our thoughts. I don't think that people understand that those demons, they make their existence known every day. They don't just talk to us, they yell, they scream and they rampage. They're little monsters with more power than you'd think. So, no. I don't believe everybody has control over their happiness. Yes, you can cut people and certain  unhappiness from your own life, you can try your hardest to protect yourself. Only, the consequences always seem to be bad. If you cut a person from your life, you're a "bad friend." You're the "enemy", and "how dare you." I've been cut from many people's lives, but I understand why, and I don't blame people for it. But, not everybody does understand. It hurts to be cut out, it does. It's a hurtful part of life that some people just don't get over. To me, that's part of "being in control of your happiness" but it's so negative. It doesn't seem like it should be apart of happiness. Maybe that only makes sense to me. It might, because I struggle to put my words together most of the time. If only people knew how long it takes me to write just one entry for this blog. 

♫"Used to play pretend, used to play pretend, money.

We used to play pretend, wake up you need the money.

Used to play pretend, give each other different names, we would build a rocket ship and then we'd fly it far away.

Used to dream of outer space, but now they're laughing at our face saying "wake up, you need to make money", yeah."♫

I love Twenty-One Pilots. Their music brings me so much peace, the lyrics are perfect. They say it just how it is. One day, you wake up, and you need to make money. Only it's not that simple. I'm an artist, and that doesn't always promise money. So, you go and try to find a job to save money for things that you're passionate about. Only, you have a last name that intimidates people. You look a certain way, and it puts people off. So you spend years trying to get a "normal" job, yet nobody will give you a chance based on these petty little things. People say "You can't give up, just keep trying." That's not a bad thing, but some of us reach a certain point. You get to this point where, you cannot take anymore rejection. Hearing that you're not good enough gets old after a while. You start to believe it, and then trying just becomes pointless. The constant rejection gets painful. You might as well stand in front of a person and say "You suck, we don't want you, and you aren't good enough" over and over and over again. It's like being punched in the throat repeatedly. They don't understand what they're doing to you. They don't understand, and most of the time they don't care. People in this world who hold positions of power, usually abuse that power. Those of us who are never given a chance, because it's already decided that we will fail, that pretty much means that we're screwed. I'd rather go back and play pretend. 

♫Sometimes a certain smell will take me back to when I was young.

How come I'm never able to identify where it's coming from.

I'd make a candle out of it if I ever found it.♫

Those lyrics are from the same song. I should mention, the song is called "Stressed Out." Even the damn title is perfect! This song is everything to me. I know you know what they're talking about. You're minding your own business, a smell hits you, and suddenly you are six years old again. It makes you smile for a minute, but you cannot figure out what it is. It's another one of those bittersweet little moments. I count that as a gift in life. 

Even with all the little gifts like, music, amazing smells, and thought of brightly colored beaches, I'm just so tired. I want the little things to be enough, I do. They aren't, and at this point I feel like no matter what I do, it will end with me in tears, and the world once again be laughing at me. I don't feel like anybody wants me around. People can tell me until they're purple faced that they do. My monsters won't let me believe them. People do tell me I'm not wanted, and they make me feel unsafe. They know that I feel scared, I won't let the world know that they're bullies. I like people too fast, I love and care about people too fast. Too much. So much, that it makes me seem creepy and weird. That's what being friendly is these days. It makes you a weirdo. Being loving is considered a bad thing. Being sensitive and crying a lot makes you weak. That's what I see, and I just don't want to see it anymore. All I hear is hatred, and pain. Not just my own, but other people's and it hurts me. My head is a scary place to be, and there isn't anything I can do to fix it. Some people are beyond help, some people can't be helped. The world's solution to "fixing" people like me, is drugging you up, and strapping you down. To me, it's cruel and unusual. To strap a person down who just wants to escape in the first place. It seems like being kicked while you're down. I understand why it's done that way, but I don't like it. I just want to step aside, I wish I could give my life to somebody else. Somebody that would do something useful with the time. Like, seriously, take my life, do something better than I will ever be able to do. I have faith you. 

The next time you see somebody that you think is worth something, hug them as if their life depends on it. 

West Coast Bound then Broken

West Coast Bound & Broken

Thoughts throughout my recent vacation to California. 

April 28, 2015, 1:10 AM -

♫ - "No Parallels" by: Hands Like Houses

The train literally just pulled out of the station, and I already feel less stressed out and crazy. I'm almost crying tears of pure joy at the thought of getting away. I'm a walking emotional ball of feelings in general, so I'll probably end up crying eventually. That doesn't matter, I'm going to a place that brings out genuine happiness from within me. I can remove the mask, and smile for real. There are some people in my life that would be blown away by the difference in my behavior when I'm away from Western New York. People don't believe me, but the West Coast makes everything better in my eyes. This is part of the reason why I believe that environment makes all the difference in the world. Not for everybody, but we're all different in our own way. Even when there's a person that's grown up and lived in the same area for most of their life, and moved.

Multiple times. 

At this point, I wouldn't care if I didn't get to stay west coast, the train ride is so peaceful for me, and I love it. I could go all the way there and get right back on the train and feel rejuvenated. I'm not stuck in a place that makes me feel broken, and I'm not up in a giant flying coffin thousands of feet in the air. I'm on a tiny vacation that moves, and I feel better than I have in a very long time. I can't wait to wake up, and be somewhere else. I would say somewhere new, but I've been on this adventure before. Either way, I hope I can wake up and smile. Like an actual, genuine smile, not the fake one I use on a daily basis to make others less uncomfortable. 

April 30th, 2015, 8:10 AM -

♫ - "The Edge of Tonight" by: All Time Low

It's a bittersweet thing that I am actually in LA right now. Bitter because plans fell apart during the ride here, plans that meant a lot to me. It's become clear that certain people in my life, on this coast, mean more to me than I mean to them. That's part of my life, and it defines my friendships with most people. I can't lie, it always and forever will hurt my feelings. However, it doesn't hurt any less when I figure that out about another friend. The sweet part is I'm here, and I'm looking at Palm trees. Getting off of the train was slightly discomforting. It was time, that's for sure, but I don't think I was entirely ready. Not because I wasn't ready to be here, but because I sincerely love being on the train. It makes me feel oddly free, it's almost euphoric. As for actually physically being on this coast, it's absolutely freaking perfect. I can breathe, I can think straight, I am home. I don't feel anxious, I don't feel shaky, or like I need a drink. I'm where I belong. It's temporary. Painfully temporary but, I won't think about that now. 

May 4th, 2015, 6:34 PM -

♫ - "Jesus Christ" by: Brand New

I feel sick. My trip is ending so much earlier than it was supposed to. I understand that's how it happens to be, there isn't anything I can do about it. However, I strongly dislike it. Every single one of my demons were out of my head this whole time. It feels like the further away from Western New York I went, more and more of those demons jumped out along the way. Now that I'm going back, city by city, they'll jump back. By the time I reach the dreaded final destination, the little monsters will be screaming. Filling my head with everything that makes me wish that I was never born. I'm genuinely sorry if that's "dramatic" sounding, or depressing. It's how I feel, but most people don't take others feelings into account. I'm not just talking about my feelings alone, I mean people's feelings in general. I see it more and more these days. More often than not, I see and  hear of people's feelings being disregarded, chewed up, and pushed away.

Forgotten.

Ripped apart.

Judged unfairly and criticized.

There are people that tell me the negative things that others say about me. The most popular has been that I'm  too depressing to be around. I've heard that a lot, and it's hard. I totally understand why that opinion of me that exists. The hardest part of that is that it's somewhat true. I suffer with depression, that means I'll be depressed at times. I suffer from severe anxiety, that means I'm anxious, both mentally and physically. I have post traumatic stress, that means so many different things. My health, mentally and physically continues to get worse. It seems my mask doesn't cover as much as I thought it did. It would be mostly wishful thinking if I thought I could make the mask bigger and stronger before I get back. 

May 10th, 2015, 5:12 AM - 

♫ - "Car Radio" by: twenty one pilots

I had a weird....episode in my sleep a couple nights ago. I say episode, because I'm not sure if it was a dream or a nightmare. It was so damn bittersweet, that it's mildly frustrating even now. 

I was sitting in an empty bathtub, fully clothed. One of those really deep tubs, and it was placed in he middle of a forest that was nothing but trees with pink flower petals. I was in love with what I was seeing, it was beautiful. I could hear wind, birds chirping, and the air even smelled sweet. Suddenly, I was being pulled backwards, under water, that wasn't there literally a second before. Somebody is holding my shoulders down. I didn't struggle, I didn't want to make the process any longer. I get this weird feeling of euphoria, and just as I think it's almost over, I'm pulled up. Only, the environment is different. Everything is just gray. A dark gray color. Like nothingness. Gray and quiet nothingness, for miles and beyond that. The silence was deafening, and I felt colorblind. I tried going under the water, but it was gone just as quick as it had appeared. The tub was empty again, and I was alone in the middle nothing. 

It could have meant a few different things. It might not have meant anything at all. My best guess is that it has a lot to do with me being back here again. Environment can effect us so much more than people believe. This place sucks the life right out of me. I'm happy that it doesn't happen to other people. Friends that like it here. Even people I'm not friends with, I wouldn't wish feeling this way on my worst enemy. 

Feeling alone, even when you're with people. 

Having a constant thought in the back of your mind telling you that you're better off dead, or never having been born. 

Feeling like your mere existence bothers every single person that you ever have contact with.  

The constant need to hurt yourself, for ether control, or punishment. 

The moment I stepped foot off of the train, it all came flooding back. I know it sounds impossible, but it was physically painful. It was like waking into a brick wall. In two weeks, I went from being an utterly useless human being, to feeling like my life had a purpose, and back again. I just wish that there was a way for me to feel like "West Coast Me" while I was here. I've tried, I have but it just doesn't work. Sometimes, life can be like going to be movies. All the good parts, were in the trailer. It's weird, today I am exactly twenty eight years, and five months old. I feel just as dead on the inside as I did when I turned twenty eight. Hopefully, someday, California will revive me again. 

Just a small town girl, living inside of her head.

If only rooms with padded walls looked like dreams. It wouldn't be so bad, right? I've heard depression described as drowning, but never dying. That makes more sense to me than it should, it's so accurate. I've always liked to swim, so it seems like I wouldn't mind being suspended in a body of water, for a long period of time. However, I have to admit, twenty some odd years is a long time to be swimming. I know, it's not really water. Instead of my lungs filling with water, it's doubt, shame, anxiety and last but not least, all my lovely little demons. The angry little monsters that reside inside of my head, reminding me on a daily basis that life doesn't need me. It feels like they're dancing on my cerebrum, and oh my God, I don't think I have ever once used that word before. Anyways, if I'm right, that's the part of the brain that controls memory. 

My memories come and go pretty frequently, it's very frustrating. When lost memories come back, it's aggressive. Like being punched in the brain with a fist full of fuck you. Excuse my language, but that's what it feels like. It's all part of the emotional roller coaster that is post traumatic stress. Incase you're wondering, there's no height requirement for this ride, and you will vomit. 
Every day is worse than the last. It's not the company I keep, because I'm not anywhere near the people that chewed me up and spit me out. It's not my environment, I'm not in the wonderful world of Western New York anymore. Don't take that seriously, because I took the word wonderful, and dipped it in a huge glass of sarcasm. I guess I'm just done. The things I was good at, the things that used to save me from myself, they're a thing of the past now. My camera used to be my best friend, but I am no longer able to do any favors for the art of photography.  

Writing was always a good outlet. Obviously, it still can be at times. I have this blog. Sadly, it's all that remains. Song lyrics, poems, screenplays, I stopped all of it. It felt like I was ruining something. It was the same feeling with my acting, and my music. I actually think I remember when I decided to kill my music. I was in the middle of writing lyrics, and they mentioned something about playing my veins like violin strings, with a razor blade. Super morbid, I know. I wouldn't recommend having a self harm addiction to my worst enemy. It's like having your demons on the outside. Anyways, I remember looking at those words, and wanting to cry. I probably did, because it had nothing to do with the rest of the song. It was just a random damn thought that I had, and it was scary. So yes, I'm a coward and I ran away from my own music. 

I'm an artistic disaster for sure, I've claimed that proudly for a long time. Only, you can be an artist and suck really badly at it. Turns out my photos are super generic, and my writing is that of a twelve year olds. Luckily, the person that pointed that out hates my blog. Their eyes are saved from this entry, yay! I didn't plan on updating, but I needed something to do. I am antsy, I can't sleep, and the demons are having a dance party in my head. Their music must have lots of bass, because my head hurts so bad, that I can't see straight. That's my cue I suppose. 

Dreams, Nightmares & Music ♫

When a person thinks of life as a whole, the possibilities are endless. Endless in a way that seems almost impossible, positive and negative thoughts alike. 

Life scares me a little more then death, I have to admit that. When I think of my life as it stands for me right now, I shut down. Not because of how defeated I feel, or because of how much pain I'm in. It's because there are so many different thoughts running through my head on a daily basis. Way too many, and not only does it make my head hurt, it makes it spin. 

It's like being stuck on the flying swings at an amusement park. Spinning round and round, trapped in between up above and down below. Going absolutely nowhere. While you're on the cycle, you can hear everything going on around you, but you can't hear it clearly. You can see things in the distance, but you can't really figure out what they are, because you're not still long enough to see it clearly. You wish more than anything you could hold somebody's hand, but all the hands available are out of reach. So close, yet just far enough away, that is mocks the comfort you're desperate to feel.

My life is just so surreal to me at this point. Sometimes it feels like one long dream, other times, a never ending nightmare. There are even times I have to laugh, because it feels like a practical joke that won’t end. It's ironic really, because it shouldn't be funny. I guess me laughing about it is more out of frustration than it is humor. The demons I hear in my head on a daily basis are constantly whispering in my ears about how the good memories will fade. I try so hard to hold onto those, and the memories that have impacted my life in good ways. Memories involving music, love, and beauty. Friends, bonds with people, and just overall happiness. It's so hard to hold onto, because the whispers about the bad things get louder and louder every single day. Some of the thoughts in my head are terrifying. I can't even begin to explain the feeling I get when I'm just sitting, and thinking, and scary thoughts start eating away at me, and they don't let up. Thoughts about people I love getting hurt in these horrible ways. Thoughts about what people that dislike me would do to me. I think about things that I have seen, things that I might see. Things that I probably never will see, but still I can't get the images out of mind. It just makes me wish that I could go numb for years at a time. Or even forever. There are times when I wake up, and get upset. I get angry, and frustrated that I woke up at all. I lay there, and I cry. It's become somewhat of a routine. To most people, that probably sounds like such a sad and pathetic fact. To me, it's just confusing. I think the amount of hatred I have for myself has a lot to do with it. Mostly, it's the desire I have to sleep and just be gone for a while. I don't miss the nightmares, reoccurring or not. The night terrors, I would gladly wave goodbye to. The dreams....oh my God, the dreams, they don't happen often enough. When they do, I get lost them. It's almost like getting lost in a song. I cry more when I wake up from something like that, it's hard not to. It's damn near impossible for me. I also cry more when I go to sleep knowing that I won't wake up, and I do. It breaks my heart in a way that I don't even think I can explain. Especially when one of the good dreams is floating around inside my head. 

There's a song called 'The Neighbourhood' by Female Robbery, great song. The lyrics just make so much sense to me, but listening to it is like being inside of a deep sleep. It's not a dream, but it's not a nightmare. It's a bittersweet universe to be in. Confusion plays a major part with how you feel, and it's almost like you're learning all these secrets about yourself and about life, but you can't tell anybody. Not just because it's a secret, but because you don't think anybody could possibly ever understand what you're trying to explain. I don't think that's what the lyrics are attempting to get across, that's just the scenario that runs through my head when I hear that song. 

Then, there are songs like 'Last Hope' by Paramore. It's so real, the lyrics are like a person in your life that understands how you feel, and knows what to say. It's beautiful, songs like that are kind of rare, and its shame that more people don't seek them out. It gives you peace of mind for five minutes. Or, five minutes and ten seconds if we're being specific. 

♫"Every night I try my best to dream, tomorrow makes it better. Then I wake up the cold reality that not a thing has changed."♫

That is my favorite part of the song, it's just true, and they are words that I can relate to so quickly. 

Life without music would be truly tragic. Even if it never existed and we wouldn't know anything different, I think I’d still know. I think there would be a noticeable void in my own existence. I know I wouldn't be alive today without the gift of music, that's a fact for sure. Some people relate to animals better. Even nature, and objects, much better then they relate to other people. I think music is that thing for me. I get that it's created by people, and that it exists because of people. Only, the songs themselves, the lyrics, the voices, all turn it into something much different. Something much more significant. All I know is that, I'm hanging on by very few threads these days. I'm almost sure that the demons will end up taking me out before anything else does. Those threads, they're music, and that's something I trust more than anything. I know some people might think it's sad that I trust music more than anything or anybody else, but it's the truth. I think it's beautiful, and I always will. Even if I don't live to see next year, I had something beautiful to hang onto up until the very end. That means the world to me, and I couldn't ask to go out on a note anymore perfect than that. 

Mad World

It’s so ironic that I wish that I was never born, because honestly, I feel like I’m already dead. Morbid, I know but it’s the truth, and at this point, I don’t see any reason to hide it. Most people already know. Whenever I wake up, I get upset. Sleep is almost like being dead, and I like it. The times when I’m ready to sleep, and can’t seem to get there, it’s almost devastating in a way. I think I’ve been freaking people out, and it’s not something I’m proud of. I don’t like doing that to people. I don’t really have that much to live for, so when I do go out and do things, and spend time with people, I get overly excited, and end up feeling really thankful by the end. People don’t like that, but I understand. They don’t get what it is that I go back to once my time with them is over. They don’t live with the same demons that I do, so I don’t bother getting offended when people push me away. I just don’t think it would be fair. My head is in a very scary place, it has been for a long time, and will be until I die. That’s just how it is. So when I apologize to people for being a downer, I’m not just saying that, it’s a genuine apology.  When I apologize for being bothersome, or tell a person that I don’t feel like bothering them, I’m not just saying that. I’m not trying to make anybody feel bad, I’m just being honest, I really do feel bad. People don’t always believe that, but arguing is pointless. Defending my feelings is pointless. I know to a lot of people, having their feelings hurt, or hearing a person’s negative opinion is nothing. That’s alright, to each their own. I’m just not one of those people. I’m sensitive, I take things personally, and I can’t really handle things. I don’t expect people to tip toe around me, and make sure that don’t say anything that I can’t handle. But, I feel like I can’t win with some people, and it makes me feel crazy. Like, when somebody knows that I’m hiding how I really feel, or that I’m holding back on certain things, they get all mad. Even if I vocalize that I’d rather not say what’s on my mind, they push until I do say it. Then I let it out, and get criticized for how I feel. Like I said, with some people, there is no winning. Which is why I think I’d rather just keep my mouth shut and pretend like things people say or do don’t effect me so much. It’s easier. It’s not really less painful, but it is easier, and I’d rather just go with that.

 When I dream about suicide, it always has something to do with somebody’s last words to me. A few people in particular. They say something to me, I don’t say anything back. I take it, run with it, and sometime later, I’m jumping from a rooftop, or swallowing a bunch of pills. Some would see that as morbid, but I don’t. With my state of mind right now, those are the good dreams. I like those dreams, because when I’m dead, nothing hurts anymore. Nobody is making me feel stupid just for being who I am. When I close my eyes, and sleep, and see myself living through this epic pain, that takes my body to a level of Hell that’s hard for anybody else to imagine, and I live through it….those are the nightmares. It’s like the lyrics from “Mad World”.

“And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad. The dreams in which I'm dying, are the best I've ever had.” 

I love that song, and those lyrics are my favorite part of that song. The bitter sweetness of it sends chills down my spine. It’s one of those songs that understands how I feel, one that listens to me, while I listen to it. I don’t care how crazy I sound, when it comes to a song like that, and lyrics like those, my mind goes on a well deserved vacation. In this moment, I can’t help but smile, because I’m writing this, listening to that song, and even the incense that I’m burning has timing like nobody would believe. I’m burning two sticks. One is Lemon, and the other is Vanilla. If that’s not bittersweet, I don’t know what is. That’s how I feel about death. That’s one of my demons. Maybe even two of my demons. Wanting to kill yourself, and being terrified of life after death is not a combination I would wish on anybody. Not even on my worst enemy. It makes me feel crazy, it’s like having a full out war going on inside of my head. Like the Incubus song, Oil and Water.

“You and I are like oil and water. We've been trying, trying, trying Ohh, to mix it up.”

Oh my god, it’s lyrical perfection to me. Just pure understanding of what goes on inside my head. Songs like that are why I trust music more than I trust people. Why I have my headphones in my ears more often than not, why being a musician is such a big part of who I am as a person.  Music has a better understanding of me than even my own family members do. That’s probably the best addiction I have. Sure, the razor blade kisses are the sweetest to me, but music is a drug to me, and I will take that magical little pill anytime, anywhere. When you are a musician, you are a super hero. I don’t care if you’re a rapper, a country singer, a lyricist, you could play nothing but the freaking triangle, it doesn’t matter. You are part of something so special.  I’m pretty sure it was Hayley Williams who said this.

“What motivates me is seeing people in the crowd and wondering what they’re going home to and what they’re dealing with, and knowing that for the being we’re their escape.”

Okay, that right there is why the woman should be wearing damn cape everywhere she goes. That’s the kind of musician I wanted to be. Only now, I’m a huge hypocrite when it comes to that, because I’ll sing to save your life any day, but I will sing not one note to save my own. That is part of why I will never be the kind of musician I wish I could have been. 

For months now I’ve been wanting to just end it. Close my eyes, and never have to open them again. I don’t want to leave the music. In death, I will hear nothing, which means music will no longer be a part of me. People will call me selfish for that, people have. I don’t think it is selfish, but everyone has their own opinion, and that’s alright. Personally, I get upset when people make certain comments about suicide being selfish. Yes, you’re leaving people behind that may or may not love you. Yes, you’re denying future friends and or family the chance to know you. Yes, little children in your life will be confused about why you were here one minute, then suddenly gone. Those are all things to think about, very important things to think about. The thing that bothers me the most about the whole “Selfish” thing is simple. You don’t know what another person’s pain feels like, and you never will, because you will never be that person. God love you for wanting a person you care about to stick around for a bit longer, you’re not wrong for that. However, if you use anger and insults towards a person that wants to end their life, you are only adding fuel to the fire. To me, that is a mistake. That would be like setting fire to a piece of paper and asking “Oh no, why did it burn?” Do you see where I’m going with this? By all means, feel how you want towards this, it is your God given right to be angry if you feel you need to be. Just don’t be surprised when you don’t get the result you expected. That being said, telling a person to “Stop being depressed” is also a mistake in my opinion. Depression is not a light switch, you can’t just turn it off. To me, turning it off would equal shooting yourself in the head. 

“Get over it.”

“Cheer up.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I got through it alright, so you should be fine too.”

People seem to think that those are the magic words to cure a person’s head issues.  Two people in particular stick out in my mind when it comes to those phrases. They were overused on me for the last twenty-six years. When people say those things to me now, I smile on through it, and keep my mouth shut, but on the inside, I’m screaming and beating myself in the head. Yes, there are things you can do to help a person with depression, anxiety, and other disorders. Pretending that the problem isn’t there, and telling them to “Cheer up”….is not going to make the demons go away. Not if the demons are anything like the ones dancing around inside of my head. They’re cruel little things. I wish I could be creative about it, and say that my demons probably look like the little monster in the lamisil commercials, but they don’t. Oh my God, can you imagine? Anyways, I think it’s time for me to stop talking for now. There’s music waiting to be heard, and who am I to ignore the call of pure magic?

Every Single Time

It's not secret. Nightmares are traumatizing. I don't think there is any real way around the fear. As scary as they are, I think they're worth thinking about. Like, when people have amazing dreams, and they wake up feeling refreshed, happy, and at peace. Believe it or not, as crazy as it seems, I believe there is a lot to learn within the demons we all occasionally face while we sleep. There's beauty to be found in most things. Nightmares, as well as dreams. Sometimes, the horror of the things I see in my sleep is so beyond overwhelming, I wake up feeling like a monster. Like I'm this horrible little monster, with nothing but bad things inside of my head. The reoccurring nightmares are the worst for me, but there is just so much involved, it's hard for me to ignore them, or put them out of my head.

There's this one nightmare that haunts my sleep occasionally. It's starts off calm, but always takes this really morbid turn. True, it's a nightmare....however, I have to admit, I like the way this one begins.

I'm in some random room, and it's filled with white roses. Thousands and thousands of perfect white roses, with long green stems. That makes me smile....

Every single time.

There's this scent. I don't know exactly what it is, but I know that it's not the Roses. It's something else, something stronger. Whatever it is.....it smells like magic. It makes me smile bigger....

Every single time.

Even though I'm pretty sure I'm inside someplace, I look up, and dark, puffy rainclouds are hovering over me. I make a silent wish that it will rain, and it does. It starts to rain, and I let the rain drops fall on my face and into my eyes until I have no choice but to blink. It stings, but I don't care. Call me a masochist, but it makes me smile harder....

Every single time.

Once my eyes are focused again, I notice that the Roses are changing. From a few feet away, I can see.....few by few they're turning from white to red. Somebody is making it happen. At first, I think it's just the rain, but it's not. There's a person coming towards me. I can't see their face yet, but this has all happened before. I know it's her. It makes me so nervous, that I freeze, and can't move my feet....

Every single time.

I don't want the beautiful things to go away, but they will. I don't want the Roses to die, but they will. The rain will stop, and the scent will turn to something else. Something rotten. Something Evil. She's so beautiful, but I'm terrified. She brings with her the color red, in more ways than one. No, it wasn't just the Roses. There will be blood, there be pain, and my God it's so bittersweet. With her, this raven haired angel of mercy brings a solution, and for the love of all things blissful, it's just so tempting. She approaches me, and smiles warmly. There is love in this smile, there is comfort, yet there is death. My emotion are having this inner war, calm or fear, calm or fear....the fight is epic, sad, and mind numbingly beautiful. The way she smiles at me, makes my heart race....

Every single time.

I close my eyes as she caresses my cheek with her hand. Slowly, softly, lovingly. Her touch is so warm, yet deadly. I always wish her hands were colder, even knowing that this vision, this bittersweet terror that I sleep with inside of my head, will always be be same. I can't bring myself to open my eyes, I won't not even when she whispers in my ear.

"I'll protect you. Remember, this is for your own good."

After she kisses my tears away....she kisses my lips. Only for a second, but she does, and I cherish it. I need it, because I know what's coming next. With one last loving look in her eyes, she smiles. It sends chills through my entire body.

Every Single Time.

That's when it finally happens. She punches through my chest, so easily. Almost too easily, as if I was made of tissue paper. She grips my heart so tightly, so hard. I open my mouth to scream, but she puts her finger on my lips, and shakes her head. How, I'm not sure but I hold back, I don't scream. I can feel her hand gripped around my heart. All five of her fingers, squeezing, my heart beating slower and slower. It's so strange, and it doesn't really make sense but....I'm never sure how to feel. It's never up until the very end when it becomes a nightmare. When it all really falls into place. As I fade, I glance behind her. The clouds are back, it's raining again. Some of the roses are turning white again. I tilt my head back, it's red roses, the scent of death, and no rain. No rain to purify me, to make me feel clean. I hear others screaming, other people in the same position as me. How I know that, I'm not sure. I just know. For a moment, I feel at peace, I know it will all be over soon. Then comes the end. The mind numbing, stomach churning pain. She rips my heart out, and I fade away. I sleep forever, because I chose not to cross her. I don't fight her, I give into her, because I trust her....

Every Single Time.

When I wake up from that, it's not always the same. Sometimes I'll cry and cry, like a scared little girl. Other times, I'll feel happy. There has even been a few times where I scream at the top of my lungs. It's only a matter of time. One of these days, I'll probably wake up and do all three.

Some people wouldn't call that a nightmare. Some might say it's just a bad dream. Maybe even just a dream. Whatever it is, it scares the crap out of me. Not just because of what happens to me in it. Or, because it's reoccurring. It's also because I'm surrounded by so much beauty in the beginning of it, more than I know what to do with. Then, just like that, it's snatched away by deception and evil. To me, that's how life is. That's how the world we live in is. That's the scariest fucking part, and that's the thought that settles within my mind after I have that nightmare....

Every Single Time.