509.9

I’m scared today.

Scared of the future.

Scared that nothing will ever go right. Or left. Or anywhere else than here.

I’m scared that I’ll have to live this life, this life I currently have, until the day I die.

I’m scared that I’ll be crippled by this mind-numbing awfulness of the dark that surrounds me and my thoughts and that I’ll never amount to anything because of it.

I’m scared that I’ll never be able to change where I am. Or evolve. Not because I don’t want to. But because the energy is being drained from my body by screaming doubt and paralyzing fear and the terrifying knowledge that I’ve walked this road before and failed.

I’m afraid that I’ll not get to chase my dreams and move on to bigger and better things and forever be stuck in my head and this house.

I’m afraid.

Terrified.

Dinner alone.

The week started out so good and now it has gone all tits up. Peachy, just fucking peachy.

My little adventure on Tuesday was awesome, going on a date with myself. I’d never done it before, so it was a bit nerve wrecking, but it worked out fine in the end. The parking situation was a bit of a mess since there aren’t that many spots where the cinema is, so I had to walk a few minutes but I mastered even that! Walking alone in the dark with no one else there, while passing by strangers; check. There were long lines in front and I was worried I wouldn’t get in, I did still get a ticket though. And a good seat! Boy did it fill up, I’d never seen so many people at this particular theater before because it’s a smaller one, but almost all the seats were gone at the end. Which, of course, was definitely hard for me, since I’m not so big on being in a room with a lot of people, however the film started quite soon after I sat down (because the lines were so long!), so I was okay.

The film, by the way, was awesome. The Theory of Everything. It was beautifully done, I have to say. I’ve rarely seen films that got away with no action scenes and yet still absolutely wowed the viewers. The actors were great and I can see now why Eddie Redmayne, who played one of the main characters, namely Stephen Hawking, got the Oscar. Even though every single one of the others should have gotten one, too, if I had any say in it. The story itself was, as I had suspected, really sad at times and I did have a few tears rolling down my face, but then, every so often, it got really, really funny and the audience was laughing. Apparently, and I didn’t know this before, Hawking is a really funny guy (in real life)! It was also very inspiring. Would I recommend it? Yes, most definitely. I do think that not everyone will ‘enjoy’ it, but that’s just how life is. Something I like, you might not.

After that amazing Tuesday, the week just…I don’t know what happened, exactly. Climaxing in today’s events of course.

I tweeted about this earlier, but I’m actually still so upset about this, I had to write a bit more. So we were all sitting down to have lunch, when my sister brought up a few things about school. Then she said something about my cousin, who has some mental disorder issues as well and who decided to try going to school again. I mentioned that I don’t think it’d be right for him, considering the fact that he isn’t really the public school and do-it-the-usual-way-type. A bit like me. Which, and I should have thought about it before I said anything, brought up how my course was going. And if you’ve been hanging around for some time, you’ll know that I’ve been able to do next to nothing. Which frustrates and terrifies me. My mother then decided to ‘tell me the truth’ by saying that ‘I might not be able to do it.’ And ‘what if they won’t let you extend the course?’

So I, your usual realist, was trying to stay positive, trying to see it all working out in the future, said: “Well, maybe they will extend my course. I mean…we are paying them.” At which my mother jumped with “yes, but they want to make money. They are a company still. Maybe they want you to sign up again.”

Which is great, of course, because I haven’t been worried about that at all, now, have I? Sigh. “You have to see the reality of this.” My mother again. Like I don’t every single day of my fucking life. That’s what I told her, without swearing even. I was obviously upset at that point. I mean…It’s one thing to consider all the possibilities, you know. It working out, it not working out et cetera. But your mother telling you to ‘be real about this’ and ‘maybe you can’t do this’? That’s just plain awful. And her pseudo-consoling ‘I’m not trying to be mean or upset you’? Not helping – are you surprised?

So while I’m staring into nothingness, trying not to cry, she proceeds to ask me whatever (I was not listening, obviously) and then starts calling me a huffy brat. Because I was not answering because I WAS WISHING MYSELF TO DISAPPEAR AND GO SOMEPLACE ELSE.

It is just so hard. I mean…she knows what’s going on. Does she not realize that these are issues that I deal with every single day? That from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall into a medically induced state of having nightmares that I live with constant fear? Fear of not being able to live on my own. Fear of not being able to earn money. Fear of having to live on financial aids. Fear of not being able to get to where I want to be professionally. Fear of being miserable. All of those and more. AND FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.

Doesn’t she realize that that is always on my mind? That not one minute goes by where all of these thoughts are pulsing through my brain, my body? Where they are tearing at my insides, trying to rip me open?

So no, Mother, rest of the family, I will not have dinner with you tonight. Otherwise I might just go completely crazy. Also kindly fuck off.

Fresh air. And being human.

Hello, beautiful people.

I’m sitting here, writing this post, with the window open and the fresh air is absolutely amazing. Especially for someone who has trouble breathing, sometimes, the cold night air is a beautiful thing. It calms me.

This is supposed to be an update, or a bad excuse for it, because the past few days went by in a blur of trying to fall asleep and having horrific nightmares.

But it’s the time in between that matters, right? So I’ve been trying very hard to make it count and do more of what I love.

There was quite a bit of anger involved in my life in the last week, due to customer service people who didn’t give a shit. And I’m not even talking about people on a phone, in a call center somewhere, no, actual real life people standing in front of me, throwing shade and giving me attitude. I don’t really need that, you know. But I ranted on twitter (quite a lot actually, so if you follow me there, I’m really sorry), and it’s better now. Music helped, too. It always helps.

I also went to therapy. It was fine, really. I haven’t known my therapist for that long, though, so it’s all a bit new still. Actually, it might change again, in the near future. Because she told me, upon learning that I often flee into languages (English, in particular), that her colleague was perfectly fluent in English and might be able to start therapy with me – in English, that is. She thought it was really interesting I have such a deep connection to it and suggested it was worth a try. Her words were, I think, “it might be a different starting point. You have been doing this for such a long time now, a different view would be nice. And I guess it would be nice to be in a situation where you could say what you thought.” So I said yes, and to please ask him about it. I don’t have an answer yet, I have to email him tomorrow about it, but it’s worth a try, right?

So yeah.

I’ve also been getting lost in more and more fanfiction again. It’s an absolutely beautiful world. (By the way, don’t tell me that’s for children and you’re not into it. Because if that’s the case, you haven’t found the right world yet, so go look instead of talking down to me. :)) There was a bit of a disappointment, when I found out some work I’d had my eyes on had already been translated. I felt like I had lost that race without having the chance to run. But then I realized what I was actually saddened by was the fact how much time I lose with this stupid illness I carry around with me. It robs me of time. Days, weeks, months. This time, I was robbed of more than two years. TWO YEARS. I cried a lot the night I found out about the stories.

And then I talked to my friend Mel and she always knows what to say, even when she doesn’t. Love. A funny thing.

Yeah. And then I almost fainted again. Fuck. Scary. It wasn’t as bad as last time and I knew how to read the signs, so I immediately let myself fall to the floor so I wouldn’t pass out and then fall. Unfortunately for me, it happened in the bathroom and as I then found out, voices don’t carry up the stairs from in there. Kinda wished I’d had my phone with me so I could’ve called my parents, but after actually screaming, they eventually heard me. I slept almost 14 hours that night. No weird dreams either. Nightmares, yes. Nothing weird, though. Would really actually prefer not fainting, though.

I’m pretty sure it’s from the exhaustion of not being able to sleep, but I think I’ll have my heart checked out too, just in case my medication is causing something to completely freak it out.

Now I’m off to watch some more of the MARVEL movies. I’m trying to catch up on what’s happening. Recently watched Thor, and loved it, then wanted to watch the second one and something was not quite right. Apparently you’re supposed to watch in order, if you really want to get it. So I started with The Incredible Hulk. And what do you know…Tony Stark shows up. But I’m sure you already know since I’m approximately 6 years behind. Guess what, though? I’m sitting here, planning which movies to watch next, marking Iron Man 2 and Captain America and then go downstairs to find out, Captain America’s on TV this evening. It’s the German version though, so…naw.

And then I look down to realize I’m wearing my Joker shirt.

The ridiculousness of life.

Certified insanity.

Thanks for reading. Be kind to each other.

– the writer.

Why I cannot bear hearing someone scream.

I’ve never really talked about it, but I’m very sensitive when it comes to loud things. Not music or anything like that, no.
Fights and arguments.
Screams of pain, sorrow, mourning.
And not just in real life. Movies, TV shows, audio books, too.
The good thing is; I can tell myself these aren’t real.
Which makes real life so hard.
But why, one might think.
Because I hear these kinds of terrible screams in my dreams every single night. Sometimes they’re memories, mostly they’re scenarios my mind makes up, though. Just like last night, where someone near and dear was being tortured. Or the night before where some stranger’s wife had been riddled with bullets.
And that is why.

It just hurts too much.
Having to live through it in my dreams and in real life is too much.
It takes my breath away.