Liebster award!

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I was nominated by Narcopathcrusher, sorry I took so long to see this! I’ve been a little sick.

1. What are your top 5 favourite books?

> Alice in Wonderland, of course, by Lewis Carroll.
> To kill a mockingbird by Harper Lee.
> Dream psychology by Prof. Dr. Sigmund Freud
> Black Beauty by Anna Sewell.
> 1984 by George Orwell.

2. If time and money were not a consideration, what would you do as a career?

Interesting, I think I would continue my dream into veterinary science and own /operate my own practise.

3. If you could have any superpower, what would it be and why?

Ideally the ability to read minds, but I like it to be accompanied by the ability to turn it off and on. While reading minds would be wonderful, there would be a lot I don’t want to hear.

4. What is one of your favorite quotes?

Caterpillar: Who… are… you?
Alice: I- I hardly know, sir. I’ve changed so many times since this morning, you see…
Caterpillar: No, I do not ‘C.’ Explain yourself.
Alice: I’m afraid I can’t explain myself sir, because I’m not myself, you know.
Caterpillar: I do not know.
Alice: Well, I can’t put it any more clearly, sir, for it isn’t clear to me.
Caterpillar: You? Who ARE you?

5. What song best captures the moment in your life right now?

Lost cause – Beck.

6. At what age did you start feeling like an adult?

I’m not certain I feel like an adult, just yet.

7. If you could live anywhere else in the world, where would you live?

Certainly overseas, somewhere cultural. Asia, probably.

8. How did you celebrate your last birthday?

Haha. Hospital actually, I try to forget that birthday.

9. Which teacher most inspired you, if any?

I think my riding instructor, if that can be classified as a suitable teacher. I was highly, sexually attracted to him, I guess it was his power, but anyways. He was always pushing me, testing me, trying to bring out the best in me. He would always tell me things, like, “you have to test yourself, everyday. The day you stop testing yourself is the day you fail.” I appreciated his words of wisdom, and his abs.

10. If you could change one thing about your personality, what would you change?

Just one thing? Damn. I guess if I only had to choose one, it would be my submissive personality. I would like to be able to defend myself, mentally and physically, and not bow down so easily.

11. When was the last time you noticed the sound of your own breath?

Last night. Every night as I try to sleep, I lay on my back, breathing through my nose, I try to focus on my body being heavy and still, and only thinking about how my breath sounds, and how it feels as it moves past my nostrils, almost trying to feel the small electrical like feeling as it does so.

okay! Eleven facts about me. I’ll try not to bore you.

1. I’m 24, almost half way to 50.
2. I’m Australian.
3. I’m a blue eyed girl, with freckled skin that speaks blue truths.
4. I’m an equestrian.
5. I now do not have a friend that isn’t online.
6. I have never met my mother, and I don’t know my fathers name. (It’s not on my birth certificate.
7. I enjoy the beach at night, the sounds, the peace, the feeling. It’s like it almost aches through my bones.
8. I feel I can communicate better with animals.
9. I’m studying veterinary nursing, as I am not intelligent enough for veterinary science.
10. I rub my feet together in bed, if I don’t I won’t be able to be comfortable.
11. I used to be a great netball player.

Do you prefer day or night?
Night, it’s just as beautiful, if not more so than day.

my nominees!

Beneath the smiles.

Just Amber..

Brainonfire.

Kimmpepper.

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My last friend.

Today. I watched another of my friends make the choice to walk out of my life.

I don’t blame her, she has lasted longer than my other “friends”.

And I have probably treated her the worst, I showed her a world that she didn’t have a clue of. She walked into my life as an innocent beautiful soul, and the memories I have given her are nothing short of traumatic.

I’ve let her see me run in front of a car, but she still sat and held my hand in hospital, even while I screamed at her to just let me fucking die, she sat there as hard as stone.

I hate myself for not seeing the changes in her that I caused, I hate that I couldn’t see that I was having an impact on her life, where she had to stand there, in front of me today, completely broken and exhausted.

They always use the excuse that I am impacting on their life, and they don’t want to leave, but they have to think of themselves too. I never believed them, but I felt every single word she chocked out, she crumbed in front of me, I felt lifeless as she said that she isn’t finding her days happy anymore.

When we first met, she was that ball of love and life, kind of person, nothing would bother her. Everything was truly beautiful in her eyes.

I changed that. I know it’s my fault, she said, that she needed to step away for awhile, because she was forgetting to look after herself, and it wasn’t a decision she had just decided today.

She has been fighting for me, over herself for over the last year and a half, and she can’t do it anymore, she said it’s stupid to let two people burn, and that she is no longer good for me.

Everything she said, was all about me, apart from needed to leave me, it was still about what would benefit me. She said she can’t help me anymore, no one that needs help them-self, can help me. We will be both fighting a losing battle, and with that she ran, hysterical into the car that dropped her off, her friends maybe? I don’t know.

I wish I could find the words to tell her how sorry I am, not because she needed to walk away to help herself, but because I just hurt her, when all she ever did was be there for me.

I wasn’t a good friend. She was nothing short of a perfect friend.

I wish before she turned around that I said I didn’t want her to go, I wish I could tell her that out of everyone that has ever walked out of my life, she has been the only one that I wanted to stay, the only person I thought would never walk away, but I couldn’t, I’ve been selfish the whole time I’ve been her life. I wanted to just drop to my knees at her feet and beg for her to not go, but her staying near me isn’t helping her, for once in the whole time with her, I had to stop being selfish. I just wish I had realised that I was being selfish sooner.

Why do we only have sudden realisations when something is taken away from us?

I tried to call her this morning, but it wouldn’t ring, so I sent a text, just a thank you message, telling her that I understand her reasoning, and I understand how hard that must have been for her, and thanking her for being the beautiful amazing person that she is, but the message just failed instantly. When I tried to send it on Facebook, and other social media. I was unable to search her name, or see her profile through mutual friends, I guess she just had to make sure that I didn’t try and convince her to stay.

I wish I wasn’t me, not because the last person that considered me a friend walked out of my life. I wish I wasn’t me because I pushed my only true friend to feel that she needed to, so she can help herself. I hate myself for not seeing that it was having an impact on her. I hate myself because I made it so she had to make that choice.

I wanted to be angry at her, like I was with everyone else, but I couldn’t, I can’t and I won’t.

I was leaning on her, without ever realising that she need to lean a little on me. I wasn’t there for her like she was for me.

Why couldn’t I fucking see, that maybe I needed to ask her if she was okay. Why didn’t I ever fucking ask.

I pushed her to make a choice between me and her own self, and she had to fight with that decision, she chose me over herself for so long, until she just couldn’t anymore.

She had to make that choice, knowing that I would be hurting myself because of it. Or maybe she didn’t? Maybe she had been pushed so hard by me, that I convinced her that I don’t love her, when I did, I do.

All she ever wanted to do was to stop me hurting, and I never stopped to make sure that she wasn’t hurting, or to take a moment to maybe think, how I affected her.

How the time, she popped over to my place to see if I wanted to go out, because I wasn’t answering my phone, walked through the unlocked door to see that I was passing in and out of it after taking a cocktail of pills and hacking myself up.

Why was I so selfish that I didn’t even think how traumatic being around me at times would have been on her.

I’ve been fighting with myself since that moment about hurting myself.

I deserve nothing, but to be alone.

I want to torture myself, I want to really hurt myself, I want to just end it, but could you imagine how she would feel? I just don’t want to hurt her anymore.

I can’t let myself lose today, because she doesn’t deserve to feel anymore pain because of me, and she will think it’s her fault, and it’s not, it’s all completely mine.

I’m not even halfway through the day. I’m trying so fucking hard and I’m already exhausted, I just can’t hurt her anymore, and this will just hurt her again.

I want to get high, but I know that I’ll just convince myself to do it. There’s nothing I can do, but deal with the fact that I am a disgusting human being.

I hope that one day, if I get a little better, that I can have the chance to tell her how much she meant to me, and that her needed to be away from me, hasn’t made me think less of her as I have with others, it’s made me hate myself more, but also love her harder.

If I get through fighting with myself, I am capable of being comfortable alone. I just hope she is going to be okay, deep down I know I’m fucking poison, so I deserve to be alone, but I hope she has everything in life that she ever needs or wants, because she deserves nothing short of a beautiful life.

I’m sorry it took so long to realise how important you are to me. I wish I treated you like the way you treated me.

I hope without the burden of my presence, you can be comfortable and find your happiness again, you deserve it.

And if I can make it through today, and maybe get better and be a different person, maybe I can be a better friend, and you can come back and be my friend again, I would try a lot harder to let you know how much you mean to me.

I don’t think it’s going to happen like that, just I hope you aren’t being too hard on yourself.

I’m sorry.

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Sullen girl.

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I’m frustrated and only my actions provoked it, and I’m disgusted at myself because I did the right thing.

It all started this morning, I was casually creeping around the internet, looking for something new to listen to, and I came across an artist called Angel Haze, called “cleaning out my closet” now I just assumed that she was doing a cover of Eminems’ track, so I downloaded it.

Once it has downloaded, I messed around a little, because you know, I might get a once in a lifetime deal on eBay, on something I do not need at all.

Pressed play on the song and hearing the exact same music as the original, and it lead me to believe that my assumption was correct.

I was so fucking wrong

I was fine until the details, she went into so much fucking detail, that I could smell that smell that fucking lingers.

Then I just lost control. I think fight or flight kicked into gear, because I do not understand how I got into the kitchen, and was vomiting all over the floor, like the pig I am, which surprisingly isn’t even the reason why I’m mad.

The rage only started once I realised that I acted out of fear, because of the words.. In a song. So I then proceeded to start trashing my house, which made me completely fucking lose it, and I instantly decided that I needed to hack myself for being the biggest fucking simpleton imaginable, continuing my path of bullshit destruction on my way.

It was only until I was standing in the mirror, glaring at my reflection with nothing but disgust and hate, did I finally have a moment to catch up with what was actually happening.

I was no longer angry, I was fucking terrified, so I spent most of the day in that in that spot on the bathroom floor. I didn’t hurt myself, if I’m entirely honest, I just sat there and cried, like a baby.

Once I pulled myself together slightly, I walked back hot into the kitchen, and was able to fit together what the fuck I had just did, and I just started cleaning before anyone came home and started asking questions, and I would have to provide answers that I just did not want to answer at all, and they would make a mountain out of a mole hill, and I had that handled just fine by myself.

Any other person would have calmed down in the hour and half I spent cleaning up after my own idiocy, but it just allowed me to get angry again.

Which, this might sound fucked up to you, but I was angry that I didn’t really fuck myself up, I was shitty that I buckled and laid on the floor, when I should have probably just ended it then and fucking there.

Which caused me to be my own worst enemy,(again) and it frustrated me more because logically, I knew the silliest thing would have been to harm myself. I could safely use the analogy “angels fighting with devils” comfortably, and the only way I could see this being temporarily fixed was to sleep, so I took four Xanax and curled up under my childish leopard print blanket.

It’s been serval hours since I have woken up, and I still don’t understand what happened, all I know is when I heard her rapping, with perfect descriptions, I smelt it in a more precise way than she could ever express in a rap.

I’m still confused and annoyed, because I have been in situations that have been considered triggering, and it hasn’t provided anything other than different levels of uncomfortable.

I thought typing this out, and being able to see it in front of me, and maybe see it from a different perspective, but no I’m still angry.

But, what’s even worse than my rage, is that I am scared.

I don’t know how to handle myself, I haven’t felt this scared in a long time, I don’t know how to cope with myself, or even fully understand what happened.

WARNING I am not exaggerating the length of description used in the song, so if you decide to listen to it, be careful.

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Drugs and I. *TRIGGER WARNING**

It’s certainly interesting when people find out I’m a drug user, (I don’t have specific drug of choice, it all depends on my mood, ranging from H, to acid)

Some people are surprised, some denial, and others, well I have lost “friends” to say the least.

Regardless of their reaction, and their judgment, they all ask the same question, which is usually blurted out in nothing short of confusion and curiosity, maybe even some care?

Some assume, that I self medicate, or that I want to die, want to hurt myself, that I hope I overdose.

Some assume it’s pure stupidity, not that I disagree with that assumption.

Up until recently, I also found it difficult to explain, especially because I don’t use in a party setting very often, it’s regularly by myself, which also lead to their confusion, and fuelled the assumptions that I was trying to hurt myself, or self medicate.

Unable to give an acceptable answer as to why, I would just always say no. Especially if they asked if I was planning on stopping, which made them assume I was a hardcore addict.

Sometimes I would agree, that I am addicted, not to a specific drug, but for what happens, which makes little to no sense for someone who hasn’t used.

So, I decided to put serious thought into it, not just so I can explain myself, or maybe justify my actions to others, but to understand why I do it.

I’m not trying to hurt myself, even though I fully understand the dangers, the risks, the damage the various drugs I partake in can cause, I don’t want to use drugs to kill myself.

I don’t self medicate with drugs, I’ve been down that road, and from my experience, it made living with Bi-polar extremely worse.

I’m an addict in the sense, that I enjoy it, I don’t need it to survive, to function. So after going over my answers, and questioning myself as I do best, I realised..

I do drugs, because I like to lose my mind. I enjoy feeling out of control, or a different version of myself, not because it provides artificial happiness, because it provides me with a moment where I can see things from a different perspective, I can think, without judging myself, or bullying myself. Different drugs provide me with different emotional thought processes, and euphoria, but they all provide me with a sense of losing my mind.

I can understand that my reasoning may not make sense, I don’t expect people to understand, until you live a life where your own mind is your enemy, it can be releasing to lose it.

Which is peculiar, because while I love the high, I prefer the come down, where the drugs are leaving your system, and the high is passing, my body may ache, but I feel myself coming back into reality, with what I can relate to as, a fresh of breath air. Allowing my mind to get lost, and give me momentary peace and artificial happiness. I find myself more capable to see the “good” around me, I feel I appreciate myself, and things more, even if it only lasts a day, or a week.

I could almost use the analogy, that my brain is a battery that has gone flat, all I need is a jump start, and I am able to perform for a little while longer.

I know, someone out there reading this, is probably not making any sense of my answer, and that’s completely okay.

We all have something that helps us get through the day, but even more so at night.

PLEASE NOTE
While I am expressing my personal opinion on my drug use, I do not condone drug use, or am I making an attempt to glorify it.

If you feel like you are dependant on substances, it is okay to seek help. Your life is important, and while I am sharing my thoughts on my personal use, do not think that the same process will happen to you. Drugs are illegal and dangerous. I am aware of the damage I am doing to my body, and if you are not a user, the damages are not worth the risk of hoping to reach a state similar to mine. Drug addictions can ruin your life, and turn a bad situation into a worse one, so whatever you are going through, please know you do not need to rely on substances, there are people who care, and people who will help. Please understand that if you are not a user, it is certainly not worth the risk, and while I enjoy it, and continue I do wish, I never started.

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Call me sweet cheeks.

I recently just got my cheeks pierced, I love them! Yes, maybe I have a little obsession with body “mutilation” but the pain is so, how do I even say this?

So. perfect.

Feeling that cold metal push through my skin, the pressure, the burning. It relaxes my body. It’s a small rush of endorphins that makes my body shake.

And they look AH-MAZE-IN.

One side is slighting infected though, but I won’t be taking them out, not unless there is puss, rather than lymph.

Fun fact – taking a piercing out in the early stages of infection can actually trap the infection in!

Maybe I should be a piercer rather than a vet nurse? Some days I think I could hurt people. Some days, I don’t think I could. It must take a lot to be about to push metal through someone else’s skin.
I highly doubt I could.

My psychologist once tried to tell me that piercings and tattoos are a self harm tactic. I think she needs to re-think her career. I don’t get a piercing to hurt myself, despite liking the pain.

In all honesty. I do it because I want to do something, it’s an impulse thing. I want some change. I want something different. I want to express my manic episodes. I want to splurge.

I don’t think there is a problem with someone who enjoys getting a piercing or a tattoo.

It’s so human to judge.

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Being me.

Imagine, just for a moment, there was a bee stuck inside your head.

You can hear it.
You don’t know why it’s there.
You can’t get it out.
And it will never stop.
Only you can hear it.

Imagine, how insane you will begin to feel, experiencing this over, and over.

Now, imagine, trying to explain the bee in your head to someone. Imagine how it would feel as you watch their facial expressions change, ranging from humour, to confusion. How frustrating it is, all the while that bee, is just getting louder and louder.

When you reach a state of mania, consider how insulting it can be, to hear the people you have told about your bee, question it more.

but, how can you have that bee, if you’re happy? You can’t just pick and choose when you hear the bee, I’m not sure there is a bee at all.

Sometimes, that bee is my friend. Sometimes, that bee has the ability to make me hyperactive, and full of love, and life. That bee fills me with the desire to buy and do everything, at once! The bee controls my sexual desire, helping me feel sexy and attractive. That bee shows me just how exhilarating things can truly be. I feel like I can do anything and everything!

But most of the time, that bee is determined to kill me make me hate myself, completely.

That bee gets louder, more frequent, and I begin to feel irritated, frustrated and full of rage, that bee shows me how uncontrollable I can be. I want to hurt you, I want to hurt me, I want to hurt the world.

The bee never shuts up. The buzzing pushes me into the darkness of my own mind, where madness carves it’s own reality, either into my skin, or into my mind.

My body, and my state of mind, consists of nothing but blackness, terror and pure undefined hate, all because of that bee.

Imagine sitting next to someone, a perfect stranger, and wishing you could have their mind, and whatever troubles they are going through, just so you could experience a life without the bee buzzing.

That bee causes me to lose my bearings. Have you ever gotten on a train, and completely forgotten where you were going because of how loud that buzzing is?

Nothing at all seems worth it, when you’ve endlessly tried to shut that cunt up.

I cannot trust my reactions, I cannot trust my thoughts, I cannot trust my being, I cannot trust myself.

That bee has caused me to forget who I am.

I hope, you never hear that bee.

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