Depression is settled deep inside me  

hondagrindersi 36M
29 posts
12/14/2005 1:49 am

Last Read:
7/1/2006 12:01 am

Depression is settled deep inside me


Depression is settled deep inside me. For weeks now I cannot write, I cannot relate to people, I do not talk to them unless I am pressed to do so. I usually become abusive. I am violent by nature and at times it becomes hard to control myself, its at it worst when I am depressed. Depression is with me. I am depression. My soul. A steel plate in my head. A trap door. A drain. Yeah its like I am being drained by a huge leech, a rotten parasite, a constant companion along for the ride dragging myself through myself. How long will this one last? When will it release me from its grip? I don't know. I'm convinced it has nothing to do with me. I avoid people when I am like this, they always make me feel worse. They look at me and ask me what the problem is. My fist impulse is to hit them. I feel my throat tighten. I choke myself. Punishment for being alive. There's a dark cloud that hangs over me, I cant get to it. I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I know there's a lot of people who go through there whole lives like this. I am a product of depression, its the driving force in my life. I am not creative or smart, I think about killing myself all the time, like a lot of people. Sometimes it makes so much sense that its all I can do to hang around until the cloud passes. All the time it makes pure logical sense and that's when I rebel against myself and hang on. I torture myself with life. I exercise my body merely to taunt it, to cause it pain and make it hurt, to make it scream. Basement. Dungeon. A long walk alone. Alone everywhere, alone when I'm with them. All is shown and all is known, all is turned inside out for all to see. A freak with all the lights on. Sickness. Isolation so heavy that I hate myself into sleep afterwards. They come up to me with there words of praise, it never makes sense to me why anyone would want to see something like that. I am told that they know what I mean and that they feel the same way sometimes. I feel sorry for them. You cant know what someone else is feeling. As soon as you let that lie go, the real world opens its ugly jaws and swallows you whole. Long ago I threw out the idea that the world was against me, trying to under mind all that I was trying to do, I used to think that way about life itself, I used to think that life was hunting me down and trying to destroy me. I found that to be untrue, its the easiest way out, to blame your problems on something else, on someone else. I threw out the ideas that the world and life were my enemies. I found that I was protecting myself from the real enemy that I have not yet dealt with, myself. As soon as that was stripped away, I saw things more clearly, I also stopped talking to people and became more withdrawn than usual. I am a monster. I don't understand. Too many things cause me pain. I want to get lost, I want to escape myself, I don't want to battle my mind again, the last time was too heavy, I lost. I want to walk until I disappear into nothing. Where is no where? How do I get there? Can I find it in the night? If its anywhere, its in the night, somewhere in the night. That feeling like your wearing a cloak of darkness, a secret wrapped in a secret protected from yourself. Its good to get a break from your life. I fell into my room. Got away from the streets and the noise. I'm looking at the walls, they look good to me right now, slowly I'm forgetting them and there mind polluting words. I don't know how to handle praise, I feel like a con man when I stand there and take it from them. I feel like a commercial. I do it all wrong. I don't know what right is. But I know that I'm doing it all wrong. I love dreamless sleep. Dreams tell me too much. Sometimes the less I know, the better. The more I look, the more I see. Like the time I had my arms around her, I looked at her, I looked in. I tried to stop my eyes. I wanted to stop seeing, but it happens like it always happens, I saw through her. I look into myself. I don't stop when I should. I diesect myself. I see through myself. I expose myself to myself. I don't like what I see. The less I see the better. Do you look too deeply? Do you see too much? I have a bad ability, its like a curse. I can make anything look bad by looking at it for too long. I always look for too long. I see through love and affection- I see desperation and praise, I see hate and jealousy, I see it in myself. I want to walk in the desert tonight. I want the wind to pass over me. I want to let the poison bleed through the souls of my feet into the desert floor. I want to starve the monster. I want to punish it with thoughts of clean night wind. The monster will kick and bellow, it cant take a direct shot, it cannot take the pain of painlessness. The iron door slams shut. A con stares the paint off a wall. There is no next time, there's only a flickering recollection of last time. History is vacant and meaningless. Thoughts of the past bring pain that cannot be measured. Thoughts of tomorrow are nightmares wrapped in reality. He can no longer prove his past. He can no longer prove himself. He throws the shackles away and lands hard in the present. He closes his eyes and opens them again. The walls are still there, he falls deep inside himself, relentless. When you are finally a world away, when you have left them, when the pain and confusion has fallen away, what then? What do you do with a vacancy? What do you do with all the time that you spend hating, wanting what they had, wanting to feel just like them? what do you do with the hours, with the thoughts, what do you do with the freedom? You learn that you spend a lot of time thinking about them. You were part of them more than you ever suspected. And you disgust yourself, you weren't above it after all, you were with them all the time, speaking the language that you were so proud that you didn't know a word of. Vacancy is a vacuum. I feel a duty to fill all of the cracks. To shove light into all the dark corners. The pain eases away, your step gets lighter. You are so used to the tension that now life is new and strange again. you let them and the world they rode in on leave, and its a new world, your new world. Welcome to your new world, your new room, your new reality. You trip and fall a lot. Its good to fall. I don't blame people for the way they make me fell. I used to. Its good to let them go. I used to cause myself so much pain at there feet, they didn't know what the hell was going on. There I was bleeding at there doorstep, pointing my finger at them, calling them heartbreakers, the dispatchers of despair. It was me all along... What I know, I cant relate to them, when I try I am filled with confusion and pain. I don't know what to do with words, when I talk they take on other meanings. I don't get it right. I let go. Hard at first, I miss the things that made me sick- to have a broken heart, to loose sleep over someone, to feel jealousy, to be amazed at the depths and lengths that they will go and the places they will take you if you attach to them. Years of my life living for them, hopping to be lucky enough to be apart of the human experience- there world. To dream there nightmares. to be on the team. to spend eternities, lifetimes, depths rejected over and over, yet running back happy to be given another chance to be rejected again. What a bad bucket of blood, to feel pain and to feel good because you know that its all yours, and then finding out that its not. you got it all from them. you are merely a tenant living off of there scraps. My pain defines me. There pain when ingested distorts me, it weakens me, it blinds me, I learn nothing, I don't grow, I run head long into there jail. Well that's over with... "look its a monster, he's walking alone, look he's pulling something out of his pocket, he threw it on the ground, lets go see what it is...Its a black box!, you open it...Whoa! Its sorrow, misery and pain, its loneliness and longing, boy he willll be sorry he lost theses." I've tried some stupid things in my time, gone to extremes to try and get away from the things in my head that I knew were trying to kill me. Its hard to swallow when you see yourself as the enemy. Only you could put yourself through this, I've tried to ignore myself- failing miserably every time. Have you ever fallen in on yourself? Like you are the coal mine and the minor? It happens all the time to me. I sit alone after a show, the smell of there cigarette smoke in my hair, a ringing roar in my ears. I look at the floor and think about them, I have nothing of myself to grab on to. I know better than to hold onto them. I know the mindless stupid pain that attachment brings. Life is hard enough. I remember there faces telling me what to do- all that heat, another night, another freak out, another life thrown into the abyss. I look inside-nothing. I wish for a signal to tell me that I am still alive. I wonder why I don't turn into a pile of salt and fall through the cracks in the floor. I wonder if any of me comes out with all of that sweat, like maybe I sweat my brain out in here. I close my eyes and listen- I hear pieces of myself falling and breaking at the bottom. I am hollow. A shell. A name for someone to call. I hear the black wings of loneliness beating overhead. I see despair coming over, waving and smiling. I send despair packing! I shoot loneliness down and stomp on its frail body. I come back to myself,it takes longer as the years go by. You people don't realize what you are seeing, you think you are getting entertained. If you knew how real all of this was, you'd be turned off. Beware of the drains, here they come, smiling, hands outstretched. They want to test your stamina, they will see what you've got and how long you will stand up to the test. Beware of the leeches-the eyes, they look like you could move in for awhile, they look friendly, like you could get close. Beware of the trap. Don't allow your perception to destroy you. The best intent can tear you to shreds, and leave you bloodless, thoughtless,no where. You want to attach, to leech someone for awhile, for a night, for a few lifeless hours. Someone to listen to, it doesn't matter what they are saying, as long as they are saying it to you. You need to put the bite on someone and hold on for as long as it takes to get you what you need. Call it whatever you want, maybe its ugly. Well ok, the world is an ugly place. It doesn't understand anyone's anything, it never did. So where are the leeches tonight? Maybe there's one in the mirror. Walking around dazed and wounded. Is there anyone alive out here tonight? I hear snow falling,I hear cars passing. I see shapes moving but I can't be sure. I have a rotten re-occurring feeling that rips through me. A desperate longing, for what I don't know. I walk thinking that it might come to me, that I might be able to get my hands around its throat and strangle it. I want to kill it because it wants to kill me. I say kill all of the enemies in my brain. The monster stalks the streets in search of itself. Regret-ill kill that guy. Despair-shoot him. loneliness-come forward I want to disfigure you, I want to turn you on yourself and make you see what you do to people, I want you to see the blood and the anger, I want you to feel the sullen lump that finds itself in my throat when you come in. I want to lock you up in solitary and watch you destroy yourself and I'm going to make sure you go out as slow as possible. I want you to taste every drop, and your going to find out what hell is really like. You are going to see what you do to people, and to make things as bad as I can, I am going to give you little breaks from yourself. Ill give you shot glasses full of the finest companionship. I will get you hooked, and when all you want is the next fix, I am going to cut you off and you'll be left alone with yourself and then you will know the pain that we all know. You will scream like we all scream. You will feel the pain. And I don't know if you will be able to survive yourself. Well that's a terrifying thought isn't it? Well good. We all go through it, now its your turn. Yeah well, I cant find any of those fuckers tonight so I just keep walking. I walk the dark streets, the dark thoughts, the dark minds, the dark deaths. I look for a way to get rid of the poison. It seems like I can confront myself all day long, but I cant go from there. Confrontation takes little thought. I've always been good at the things that take little thought. Sure, you can confront but what you do next, that's what tells you what you are. The human experience can make you every stupid name in the book. I try to not let the human experience make an ass out of me more than three to five times a day. Have you ever tried to outrun yourself? Loose yourself in a crowd? Hide from yourself in the stall of a bathroom? Take on a new attitude to fool yourself into thinking that you are someone else? Me too... The same thing every time-at the end its always you holding on to yourself, out of breath, self humiliated, hot footed, red handed and hopelessly human. I find such emptiness in your television shopping mall eyes. If I had a heart to break, Id swear you'd break it. How far does one have to go before the pain falls away? I don't want to shoot myself in the head any more. I am tired of all that money business. I am tired of my brain, I want to remove parts, I want to burn parts out. Do you get tired of the language that they speak and the things that they do? Me too. They shove dirt into my thoughts. I can't wait for the sun to go down today. I can come out at night. I can loose myself at night. Walk and forget. Walk and unload. I cant make words work. If I could say the right thing to you, maybe you could tell me what it is that's killing me. I wouldn't mind it if you saved me. I'm sure some would hold it against you, turn it on you, try and take all of your good and ram it into your gut so hard that the whole world turned black and all you could see was scar tissue. I think of you a lot. I think of you and me walking along in a parking lot at night, our shoulders rubbing against each others as we listen to our voices. We are both damaged and beautiful. We know the order of order and the order of disorder. We have both been hunted and nearly destroyed by weaklings with big ideas. We know the night. I was hoping that you would turn out to be strong, stronger than what I had ever thought possible. I was hoping that you would be able to save me, that you would be able to stop time for a second. That you would be able to make a miracle happen, and show me. That you would take the pain away. That you would deflate me, fold me up, put me in your pocket and use me later. Hack, chew and spit, you gotta get them out of your life. They will haunt you until the end of your days. They will make you want to die. Its a bad price to pay. If I could have a bullet for every time mother and father wanted to make me die, I would have enough to slaughter every pig who needed it. I don't want to be one. Its not my contempt for humanity that keeps me from being a father. Its the word. I am a lot of bad things, you hear what all the little shit heads say, but a father, I never want to be a father. All I want to do is fight and kill mine. I want to engage him in combat. I want to make him make me fight for my life. I want to take his life so I can live out what's left of mine. I deny myself life by not killing him. I think he wants me to. I can feel it in my fist like thought. You have to get away from them. I hope that they don't hurt you, I hope they didn't fuck you up. I wish they had let your mind free years before you had to rip it from there grasp. Think about it. Reap on the damage done. Don't do it all at once, the explosion might stop traffic. I wish you well on your trip. Life is boring and short, the process is hard. It leaves scars. And then just leaves.

rm_FreeLove999 46F
16127 posts
12/14/2005 2:39 am

depression is one self. one self that will probably embody you at times for the rest of your life, but you can invent a new self to escape to, and keep inventing/ manufacturing new selves until you find ones that give you energy, rather than depleting it, selves that make you can love, rather than a self you loathe.

feeling violent is a result of an inability to express yourself and your feelings in any other way. therefore, writing as you have done here is a way to help you get a grip on that ... i admit i can't read it all without paragraphs. but that which i have read throws up some beautiful imagery ... yes, you are a "freak", but freaks are those who look into the insanity and evil and darkness and truly see, instead of those who close their eyes and forget what they have seen...

the road you are walking is a tough one, but you also push yourself, not just to hurt yourself, but to toughen up, because whatever you feel now about the meaninglessness of life, there is some meaning you have come to express in the world, and it is a tough and difficult meaning to find.

thank you for your honesty. i am afraid of your violence. i do not make light of it.



[blog freelove999]


redmustang91 57M  
8599 posts
12/14/2005 4:15 am

I say masturbate, take a walk in the park and look at all the happy laughing children. There are excellent anti-depressants, and don't stop taking the meds.


rm_MiVidaLoca25 36F
60 posts
12/26/2005 11:54 pm

Hmmmm...


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