Nowhere Else to Turn
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29-05-2013, 06:17 PM (This post was last modified: 29-05-2013 06:41 PM by TheGulegon.)
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
(29-05-2013 05:16 AM)Misanthropik Wrote:  For the record, I don't want do-gooders going about trying to pull strings behind the scenes to send help for Miso. I promise you; you will be doing more harm than good. My willpower and strength - dwindling though they may be - are what keep me alive. They are what pull me out of the mud and back onto my feet.

This is nothing more than expression. My life is mine.

What Erx said! I'm pulling for ya Brother

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29-05-2013, 06:46 PM
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
I'm off to bed and will be thinking about you and hope for good news come morning.

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29-05-2013, 10:11 PM
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
I don't really have words to help. But I have hope. I hope you will have the courage to find the help you need. I hope you will brave your darkness to find peace. I hope you will be around in the future to give your brother the support he will need. I hope we will continue to be blessed by your presence and your writing. I hope you won't choose to say goodbye. I hope that you hope.

But now I have come to believe that the whole world is an enigma, a harmless enigma that is made terrible by our own mad attempt to interpret it as though it had an underlying truth.

~ Umberto Eco
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29-05-2013, 10:36 PM (This post was last modified: 29-05-2013 11:01 PM by GirlyMan.)
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
(29-05-2013 05:03 AM)Misanthropik Wrote:  I'm writing this only because this is the one last means of expression I have. This forum. In recent weeks, I've become increasingly disenchanted with this place, and yet on this early morning, I find it is the only way in which I can actually vent my frustrations to the world. Merely the knowledge that someone, somewhere out there will hear my please is the only real comfort it will bring. My words will be blunt and my thoughts will be jumbled. But that's just how my mind is working today.

I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't know why I keep treading onward. I'm sitting here; crying tears I thought I had left out there in the fields no more than half an hour ago. For some time, a cancer (of the metaphorical sort) has been festering within me almost entirely without my knowledge. I guess I was forcing it away so that I could continue to be happy. I do love her, and I love when she can make me smile. BUt there's an evil that's been building within me and I can't take the pressure anymore. It's not my evil; it's an evil working against me. I save my evil for Friday nights with a cold beer and episodes of Dexter. But this evil is from the outside, and it seeks to devour me. I was sucessful in pushing it away from my mind until it made itself manifest in a dream perhaps 2 nights ago. My days have been erratic and I've lost track of the passing of time as a result. But it was quite recently. A dream which wasn't merely a fantastical representation of my most irrational fears; it was rather a reminder. A reminder of things I've tried so desperately to repress.

I've been distant these past couple of days as a result. Lost in thought and pouring over the images and facts which constitute the cognitive portion of my reality. I've pushed away friends and family. For even my own live-in sister, I put on an act. A facade of contentment when in reality I am anything but. So in an effort to evade my reality, tonight I went for a long walk. It would have otherwise been a drive, but my car is currently in the shop. Even so, I needed to get away. Taking my gun with me - for fear of recent bear activity - I set out into the early morning twilight in an attempt to find solitude. But as is eternally the case, my mind was by my side for the duration of the trek. No one can run from their reality. No one can run from their own mind.

As I walked, my music blasting loudly into my ears, I tried and tried and tried to force the thoughts from my mind. The pains of my current state of existence. But try as I might, the demons within my head would simply not let up. They jabbed and slashed at my brain and the backs of my eyes and forced their way into the forefront of my mind. I felt tears welling up and a desperate plea attempt to escape my lips to please, please make this stop. Make me stop caring. Someone. Anyone. If there is a god or a spirit being or even a benevolent sense of cosmic energy out there; please let it come upon me and stop this horrific suffering. Stop the clacking and scratching of demonic fingernails upon the inside of my skull.

But reason assured that the gods would remain silent, and as I stared up at the brightly-shining Moon sitting behind the hazy clouds, I realized that there is no escape. No hope. I am immersed within a reality which I cannot easily escape and I have not a single person to whom I can cling for comfort. There exists no such person.

And with that realization, I could not help myself but to succumb to the flow of tears which had been building like a reservoir behinnd the dam of my eyes. It was still quite dark and most of the people from my corner of the neighborhood had already departed for work, but even still, I didn't care if anyone saw. I stumbled to the side of the road; through the grass and collapsed against the wooden fence meant to contain a neighbor's horses. In the chilly breeze, I sat against the fence and cried. For a long time, I thought I was no longer capable of crying, but since meeting her, I find that my heart has softened and emotions have once against sprouted up from the toxic soil of my soul. And so I cried. I don't know how long I sat there, but I cried until my larynx was sore and my cheeks sticky with the drying torrent of saltwater. Having spent my energy on the pathetic sobbing, I realized that nothing had changed. My reality was still real. I was still living within it. The demons were still there; smiling maliciously as they glared at me in my beaten-down state.

I wondered for a moment if a bear might walk out of the woods with a pair of cubs. I wondered if she might immediately see me as a threat and seek to eradicate me. But this brought yet another realization to my mind. Why bother with a bear when I have a gun?

I have had suicidal encounters in the past. I have considered at length the act of self-termination and, on one occasion, I sought with determination to carry it out - only to undergo a change of heart at the last moment. This time, I remembered the gun was there, and a feeling came over me. Even now, I don't know what this feeling was. Despair? Comfort? Some sort of unrecognizable cobination of the two? I don't know. But whatever it was, it swept over me like a blanket and I once more began to sob. I imagined the gun itself. I pictured the sleek blackness of the slide and the sights; glowing like little green orbs in the darkness of the morning. I "contemplated the mechanism of my mortal departure", as I said in my other thread. And suddenly I felt a sensation within my mouth; the overwhelming urge to clamp my teeth down onto the steel slide until they shattered and pulling the trigger until my blood and brains and skull fragments exploded across the fence behind me. A strange part of me wanted to be alive to kill myself even more. To live through the first bullet and scream out in pure rage as I pulled the trigger over and over; unloading the entirety of the magazine into my skull. I wanted to completely destroy myself and then die along with my body; there on the side of the road with the rest of the horse shit.

But I didn't do it. Obviously, because I'm here now relaying all of this to whoever gives enough of a fuck to listen. But god dammit it was difficult to resist doing it. I wanted to. I wanted to feel the steel breaking my teeth. I wanted to hear the bang ring out in my ears and I wanted to smell the gunpowder filling my nose. I wanted to destroy myself in a moment of pure, brutal outlash. I wanted someone to come along and find me. I wanted them to be horrified and traumatized by my dead body. Not out of any malice for them personally, but because in that moment, I wanted destruction. I wanted to give a massive middle finger to the world and, even more so, to my own existence. I wanted the police to come and contemplate why someone would have wanted to shoot themselves there on the side of the road. I wanted the papers to detail who I was and how I met my demise. I wanted certain people out there to happen upon the report of my death, and as if from beyond the grave, I wanted to stand before them with my arms out to my sides in defiance of their wish for me to still be alive. I wanted this so fucking badly that I could literally feel it within my limbs, and had to clench my fists to fight the urge to grab the gun and make it a reality.

I just don't know what I'm doing anymore. I wake up every morning to face another day of mental and emotional torment. I would liken it to a soldier being subjected to the stresses of combat on a day to day basis. Every day they wake up in a hostile and alien land; their senses constantly searching for any sign of attack. Will the enemy be behind the next tree? Or will I tread my tired bones through the woods for miles without ever encountering anyone? The soldier doesn't know. He can't know. But he must remain alert. And that alertness, in time, will begin to wear on his mind.

Every fucking day I wake up and have to wonder what my life is going to be next. And I just don't know what the fuck to do anymore. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep going through days upon weeks of contentment, only to be plunged back into the horrific depths of despair. I can't keep smiling my fake smiles to those around me so that they won't have to suffer too. I need, desperately, to scream out at the top of my lungs, but I know that even if somebody happens to hear me, they'll likely be unable to help. I don't know if I want to die. But I know damn well that I don't want to fucking live. I feel like a corpse draped in human skin. Rotting and decrepit and morbid inside, but alive and well on the outside. I can't bring myself to trust anyone enough to get close. It's not that I don't want to, it's that I can't. And anyone who has ever tried has only made the problem worse. No matter what I do, I am completely alone and nobody can help me. Maybe a part of me doesn't want them to. But if I'm putting down the gun, and if I'm writing things such as this, am I not still crying out for help? Is it that I truly don't want help, or is it that I'm so fucking angry at myself and my life that I've convinced myself that I don't want help out of defiance?

"You don't want help, you stupid fuck, you're not worth help and they're not worth letting them help you. Fuck them, and fuck you. Just die. Die and get it the fuck over with. Fuck your movies. Fuck your books; fuck your dream of having a daughter, fuck Ashley, fuck your future and fuck you. Die, bitch."

So loudly the voic screams in my head, and so hard the tears fall as I write it. But they're not sad tears; they're angry tears. What does that mean? Is there an unholy war being waged within me? One side attempting to slaughter me to the point of death, and the other side clinging desperately to life? Who is winning? And how long until the other loses?

I'm not lying and I'm not being an "emo" when I say that death comforts me. Death is an end to everything. The contentment I've never been fully allowed to grasp and the misery which has pervaded my soul since I can remember. I find comfort in the idea of cold, musty, quiet solitude. But is it me I'm trying to escape? Or is it the world? I can't tell you how badly I want this world to vanish and leave me to fend for myself. The idea of a post-apocalyptic wasteland has been a focus of many a breezy Summer afternoon's daydream for me. No bustling cities, no assholes going about their worthless lives, no nothing. Nothing but me and the crumbling remains of a civilization that once was. I would sit atop a car roof and overlook the sunset which glows orange just for me. I would be without care or worry. Nothing to subject my mind to the horrors of my current reality.

But that is nothing more than fantasy. It will never become a reality. I am here and now, and I am living this nightmare. A member of the walking dead who has yet to even die. And nobody can understand. Sure, YOU may understand, my dear reader, but then again, you may not. And even if you understand my state of mind, you will not understand the circumstances which have put me there. In my circumstances and mindset, I am entirely alone. I've tried letting people in. I've tried to get them to understand. But as I said, they've only made it worse. I realize that they mean well, and they don't "mean" to hurt me, but hurt me they do. They cannot help it, and I cannot help it. I simply don't know what to do anymore. I'm curious to see my future. It's a future I've imagined all of my childhood. Grown though I may be, I still have plenty to experience and see. And I really am curious to see how it will all play out. But in times like these, I simply don't care. In times like these, my future can be likened to the surface of some distant planet. Sure, I am immensely curious to see a rover land upon its surface and reveal a hidden landscape, but I'll probably never be around when that happens. My potential kids probably won't even be around. So as curious as I may be, a part of me accepts that circumstances may not allow it. Much the same can be said of my future. I am curious to see it, and yet, I am becoming ever-more accepting of the fact that, perhaps my circumstances simply don't allow for a future.

I find this thought sprouting up in my mind more and more, and it's becoming more difficult to ignore. The only thing which keeps me clinging to that next "precious" second, minute, hour, day; is the sheer curiosity of what may come next. What lies around the corner for me? I don't really give a fuck, but what happens if I endure this immense suffering for another second or two? Will it let up? Will it get worse? Maybe just clench the teeth a bit tighter, hold on just one more second, and maybe something will change. Maybe I'll find contentment around the next corner. Maybe something will brighten my existence; if I only hold on just another second. The seconds have been mounting, and I'm still here; clinging desperately to the next second to come. But I'm running out of strength. I don't know how much longer I can do this. I don't know how much longer I can cling to sheer, morbid curiosity as to what next shitty turn my life will take.

Again, maybe nobody here understands this. And if they do, it will be of little comfort. Having your leg hacked off with a saw isn't made somehow into a more sufferable experience because others have had their legs hacked off as well. The blade still stings against the exposed nerve endings and its teeth still grind into the bone. It's still a pain you'd give anything to escape - if you could.

The truth is that I can. I know how. I have the means. Even if you took my gun(s) away, there are a plethora of other options at my disposal. At even the bare minimum; one can sever his own tongue within his mouth and bleed into his own throat. It's a task who's true potential I realize fully. And yet here I remain. Clinging desperately to the next second; hoping like hell that it's something worth waiting for. And admitedly, sometimes it is. Sometimes a beam of sunshine comes along an illuminates my existence. Sometimes it does so at length and with intensity. But more often than this, my existence is cast in a dreary fog. Such intervals outweigh the futile, fleeting comforts life may occasionally provide.

I've said it a million times already, but I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't know if I should keep waiting for the next moment. I just don't know.

If there be a god, he is without mercy.

Welcome to the absurd motherfucker. Step right in, the water's fine. ... Nitrogen bags are available at the front desk when you get intolerably bored.

As it was in the beginning is now and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
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30-05-2013, 03:19 AM
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
I certainly can't offer any profound insight. Everything is absurd. Your life, mine, our experiences. You can't make any sense of it. If there is any to be had it is beyond our comprehension. The only reason to continue is that it's our only time round. Squeeze it for all it's got. It sucks sometimes, but I think it's worth it. It's a blessing, even in torment; Even writhing in agony. On the cosmological scale you've hit the jackpot. Do it...whatever it is.

"Scar tissue is stronger than regular tissue. You're turning me into a living scar. I don't know whether to love you or hate your fucking guts." - Henry Rollins

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30-05-2013, 01:47 PM
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
Just sending hugs Miso. Hope the coming days are better for you. You know we're all here when your ready.
Hug


God is a concept by which we measure our pain -- John Lennon

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30-05-2013, 02:02 PM
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
Hoping all is well.[/align]

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30-05-2013, 08:00 PM
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
Fuck it.

I wasn't going to post in this one because, although it may be difficult to believe, I like to be private about my feelings most of the time. At least you're still talking. I will take that as a comfort for the time being.

I found quotes. I'll share quotes because they bring me comfort as well. Sometimes, I happen upon one on accident and it becomes a favorite or one I constantly recall in times of need. When I'm feeling low, I read the words I have archived. Sometimes, a quote heard by one person will simply be a bunch of words, whereas others might hear the same thing and receive it as a profound "lesson" or life motto. Personally, I love Mark Twain quotes. Fuck it. Here, Miso.

"Life is never easy for those who dream." Robert James Waller

"What a wonderful life I've had! I only wish I'd realized it sooner." Sidonie Gabrielle Colette

"Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky."
Rabindranath Tagore

(I'm keeping that one right above. How pretty? Some might disagree. I don't care.)

"Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word happy would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness. It is far better take things as they come along with patience and equanimity."
Carl Jung

"Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured."
Mark Twain

"I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened."
Mark Twain

"It was life, often unsatisfying, frequently cruel, usually boring, sometimes beautiful, once in awhile exhilarating." -Stephen King
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30-05-2013, 08:13 PM
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
(30-05-2013 08:00 PM)Peanut Wrote:  I found quotes. I'll share quotes because they bring me comfort as well.

Quotes are good. Thumbsup

"The absurd man will not commit suicide; he wants to live, without relinquishing any of his certainty, without a future, without hope, without illusions ... and without resignation either. He stares at death with passionate attention and this fascination liberates him. He experiences the 'divine irresponsibility' of the condemned man." - Sartre

As it was in the beginning is now and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
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31-05-2013, 04:01 AM
RE: Nowhere Else to Turn
I'm not sure what to say to anyone, other than that I'm still alive. And I guess that's all that can really be said about me at the moment. I'm still alive.



As futile as this request may be (for some, anyway), I'd like to ask that everyone try to put it out of your minds. Try, if you are able, to stop caring. Care is a disease who's symptoms will rot you from the inside - I promise you.

Through profound pain comes profound knowledge.
Ridi, Pagliaccio, sul tuo amore infranto! Ridi del duol, che t'avvelena il cor!
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