One breath at a time

How's things? Up and down. You know; the good days are good, and the bad days are bad.

It seems my mood-level only exists on
"We're doing great, and everything's gonna be okay!"
"We're tired, but it's fine; we're gonna be fine. Things'll be okay."
"Can I sleep forever? I need a vacation from things."
"I'm tired of breathing. Tired of existing. Can't I just disappear forever?"
So, yeah. Up and down - but that's not unusual. We'll manage, I'm sure of it.

There's just a lot going on right now.

My depression is being an absolute asshole, as usual, and it drags all kinds of bad stuff with it, which is hard to deal with. And the fibromyalgia ain't getting better - on the contrary, it just keeps getting worse, and that's not doing wonders for my mood and my depression. And in the middle of all that, my family is going through a really horribly tough period, cause there are some really bad things going on, which leaves me in a constant state of worry regarding several of my family members - some more than others. And this is all really hard for me, and I'm trying my best to deal with it all, but to top things off, one of my disorders have decided to blow up in my face, which makes things a gazillion times more complicated. I've lived with that disorder for over half of my life, but have always managed to be somewhat discreet about it, and only during the later years have I slowly started to inform people around me about it. And now it decided to give me a swift kick to my behind, forcing me to "come out of the closet" about it in a rather harsh way. So, yeah, that's tough. And it couldn't have come at a worse time, all things considered.

But I suppose I better just suck it up and deal with it somehow. Which I will, I assure you. I've never come out of the closet regarding my sexuality, cause no one really thought I was straight to begin with, so this is my big coming out thing. And it's terrifying as fuck, but I suppose it needs to happen. So I'm preparing myself, and those around me, for that, and my next blog entry will most likely be dealing with that.

But for now, I'm just doing my best to get through the days. And I do, really. Things are hard, but I'm a lot stronger now than I used to - and I have better tools at my disposal now, as well as a kind of backup I've never had before - so I'll manage. We'll manage.

So, what's new?

Saw my ex the other day, at the grocery store, with her mother, aunt, and one of the kids, which was really weird. I didn't even recognise her at first, and had to look twice before I saw that it was her. Didn't talk to her or anything, and more or less treated her as a stranger I've never met before. Which is true, really. Some part of me knew some part of her a long time ago, but not anymore. I don't know who she is, and she certainly doesn't know who I am, so we're strangers, simple as that. But, man, she looked really bad. Tired and dragged, and so grey and invisible - I've never seen her like that. No part of me have seen her like that. It just made me feel really sorry for her, cause she looked so anonymous and broken.

The part of me that used to know her, knew a vibrant and colourful person that - despite her many flaws - had bright sides to her that could light up a room. And looking passed how badly she treated that person that used to be me, she was there for us in a way no one else was. And Aswa... She will always love her, no matter what. And that's okay, I accept it - Aswa is entitled to have the feelings she has, as long as she leaves me out of them. But yeah, the person in my memory is so incredibly different from the person I saw at the grocery store. Is that who she really is? Is that her true self? If so, then yeah, I just feel sorry for her. And not in a I'm looking down on her kind of way, but truly honestly I just feel sorry for her.

I asked Ahsk about his opinion on her, since I know he used to have the hots for her, and his only reply was "She walked away from us, and I have no need for anyone that would walk away from me and mine." with a shrug, so that's that. The others doesn't really have any set opinions regarding her, as far as I can tell - only one of them really met her. And me? Well, as I said, I've never met her. I came to be after she was out of our life, so I have no idea who she is - and thus I have no real opinion about her. I know everyone around me - friends and family - all really dislike her (some even hate her) and have nothing but bad things to say about her. They might think I'm stupid, but I stand by my statement. To me she is a stranger, and a stranger that seems so grey and broken, and I can't help but feel sorry for that stranger, because that's the kind of person I am.

But I won't take the problems of a stranger onto me, cause it's none of my business, so I give it little thought - aside from these immediate ones after going home that day - and that's that.

Speaking of home.

Mine is as chaotic as ever, but Ahsk started on a plan that seems decent, and easy enough to follow, so I'mma try and stick to that one and see if I can get anywhere with it. The most important part of that plan is NOT looking at the entire apartment and everything that needs to be done, and instead just focusing on one tiny thing at a time. The bedroom has been fully sorted out, so I'm just working on slowly bringing the stuff in the livingroom that's supposed to be in the bedroom in here and sorted into their proper place. So far it's going well. It's going slow, but that's okay. I'm no longer in a hurry to get things done, and I have no set deadline, so I am taking small steps and taking all the time I need. After all; this is my home, and I'm the only person it affects. What everyone else thinks? Not important, cause they don't live here. Simple as that.

And that way of thinking - yes, thank you Ahsk, you smug bastard, I know it's thanks to you, shut up - is making things a lot easier for me to deal with, so I don't feel so suffocated by my home anymore. As long as I just get to follow this little plan in front of me, without anyone else butting in, I should be fine. It doesn't matter if I don't finish in time for Xmas - I'm not gonna celebrate it here anyway. So, yeah. Things are chaotic, but it's okay. We're getting through it.

That, and all other things going on right now, is what's getting most of my attention these days, and I'm just focusing on getting through things one day at a time. And I have Skyrim to escape to when I need it, which is really nice. I've gotten really addicted to Skyrim, but I don't mind. It's an enjoyable game, and it's also really inspiring, which is neat. I take all the inspiration I can get, whenever I can get it, and try to do the best of it.

I still don't feel up for leaving the apartment much, but I'm okay with that. Everyone else around me isn't, but, to be a bit selfish and mean; I don't give a fuck. My life and how I handle things in it is up to me, and me alone. I do things my way, and I'm tired of having to excuse that or trying to please everyone else with my choices. As long as I'm not intentionally and badly hurting someone else, then I can do as I damn well please, and that is not something that is up for discussion. How I handle anything at all in my life is all up to me, really, and although people are entitled to their opinions, they really have no say in the matter.

What else?

Fell in love with a new artist, that had a lot of songs that reminded me of personal things. Not the entire songs, but various lines here and there, and they sink into my soul in a way few words do. Of course, there are a couple of the songs that really fits me well, and not just small lines, and I've grown very attached to those. It's hard to pick a favourite, but if I have to then I'd have to go for "Control", cause there are no other songs out there that portray parts of my life in such a perfect way. So, to wrap this up, have a listen to my newest musical obsession - Halsey.

My Demon Mask

Is such a fancy nickname for her. It's a true one, cause she's my inner Demon and my horrible Mask, but still - it's a bit too fancy. I can also call her my Darkness, cause that's what she is - when you're using the term 'darkness' as in something bad. Actually, anything that can be labeled as bad can be used to name her.

Because she is everything bad in me. She's my anger, my hatred, my wrath. She's my sadness, my hurt, my bitterness. She's the result of every time someone have done me wrong, and every thing that has ever hurt me in any way. She's my fear. My loneliness. My feelings of not belonging, and of being worthless. She's the other side of me - my twisted reflection in the mirror - and she hates it.

She was the one that, in my childhood, chained me down. She told me that no one loved me, that they'd all leave me, because I wasn't who they wanted me to be. And so she carved out masks to put on, to become someone else, and she hid my true self deep down within my own mind, locking me so far away that I forgot I even existed. And so I stayed behind those masks, and let her be in control, because the actions and words of those around me proved that she was right. No one loved me, and they'd all leave me, unless I wore my masks and did as was expected of me.

I grew up like that, wearing masks and trying to be everything I'm not, and still getting hurt by those around me. Everyone whom ever told me that they loved me, ended up leaving me at some point. Even my own mother, although I know she never meant to, and I hold no grudge towards her because of it. She didn't really know how abandoned and afraid I felt, every time that phone rang.
"Your aunt's sick again, I have to go help."
"It's grandma, I have to go help."
"I have to go help."
Today they all claim that mum never did anything for them, and I hate them all for it because I'm the one who suffered because of their selfishness. She left me, all alone, with no one but my Mask that kept me in chains to watch over me, and an imaginary friend that did whatever she could to keep me company and help me stay sane. But she couldn't silence the words from my Mask, and so I sat there listening to her telling me that I wasn't loved. I wasn't good enough. Even my own mother left me, so how could I be good enough? And my father made me dozens of promises, and broke every single one of them. And he yelled. All the time. No matter what I did, it wasn't good enough, and he yelled at me. I fell out of the top of a bunkbed once, and I hurt myself so bad, but I had to keep the tears in because when he came to the room he just yelled at me for being so stupid that I managed to fall out when I was supposed to be sleeping. When he wasn't drinking, he was yelling, teaching me how worthless I was, and I was so afraid of him that I'd hide in my room and cry every time I knew I had to go be with him. And yet I loved him, because he was my father, and I wanted to be good enough so that he'd stop yelling at me, and so I sank even deeper down beneath those chains and let the Mask be in control.

I was bullied, and friends only liked me if I did what they asked me to, so my Mask made sure I always did what they wanted, and she let them all use me - both mentally as well as physically. And I kept going like that, always doing what everyone expected me to, to please everyone around me. When I grew old enough to fall in love, and have actual relationships, I kept up that act. I wore my Mask as best I could, trying to be everything they wanted me to be, because that's the only way I'd keep their love. And even then, they left me. And then I met my best friend, and my Mask adored her and everything about her. She became obsessed with her, and with pleasing her, and so she kept on carving more and more masks, to keep her happy so that she'd stay with us. No one fed my Mask as well as she did, in every possible way, because she wore Masks as well, and knew how to play them. It became a sick little game, between her and my Mask, and at this point I didn't even exist anymore. The concept of ME was forgotten, and the only one that mattered was my Mask - and her sickly obsession for that Ex of mine. Because she was obsessed with her. Loved her with all of her being, she did, and she was a devoted follower that whorshipped my Ex like a fantatic religious person whorships his/her God.

All through my teenage years, and most of my twenties, the Mask reigned. She sat like a Queen on her throne, carving more and more masks to ensure that no one could reach her - and discover that she was just a Mask hiding the real me. And she became so strong. And so cruel.

I don't know when it happened, but my Mask became a real person, and there was nothing good in her. She was selfish and self-absorbed, but more than anything she was angry. She hated the world with such a rage that scares me even to this day, and she wished so much harm upon everyone. But, oh, she was clever, and she hid that rage and that hatred. She searched for the right words and actions, to please those around her, so that she'd get what she wanted. And she used a part of me to do so.
She created a different me. She carved a mask that she worked so incredibly hard on, making out so many details, and that mask became a person; Magdalena. All of my insecurities and fears - and insanities - were put into her, and she existed for no other purpose than pleasing those around her. She apologized for her very existence, and cried herself to sleep because she feared she wouldn't be able to please every single person she ever met. My Mask steered Magdalena around like a little puppet, and looking back at it now makes my stomach turn.

My mind shattered, early on, though I have no idea exactly when that happened. A result of losing the real me, and having a Mask stay in control, perhaps. A Mask that only carved new masks to hide the truth, which burrowed me even deeper in a world of madness, creating alternate personalities as a way of dealing. I couldn't handle any of it, and my mind shattered. Although, one part of me believes that my mind was shattered to begin with, and that's how my Mask came to be. I honestly don't know what the truth really is, and at this point I doubt it even matters anymore. My mind has been shattered for so long that it's far beyond the point where it can be fixed. And no matter how skilled my Mask was at creating new masks and steering them around like puppets, she couldn't hide that shattered mind, and it tormented her just as much as it tormented me.

My mental health has been a chaotic mess pretty much all of my life.

But her. That Mask. She just kept growing stronger, and her hatred and her anger kept growing with her. She hated the world, she hated everyone in it, she hated the masks she made, she hated my shattered mind, and she hated me. But most of all, she hated herself. And so she kept on trying to destroy us, through suicide attempts and cruel words to make everyone hate us in hopes that they'd destroy us for her. And inbetween all that, she kept steering Magdalena around, in an attempt to have everyone love us so that we wouldn't be abandoned.

I was 24-25 when she finally reached the point where she couldn't hide away as that mastermind behind the masks, and she stepped out and claimed full control as herself. She took a name - Aswa - and proclaimed that she was the truth; the real me. And she repeated those lies of hers so many times that in the end she started beliving them. She couldn't even see the difference between the truth and the lies, and she lost herself to her own game. The puppeteer became a puppet. And then, when she lost the most important thing in her life - her precious obsession - she finally broke apart.

One last attempt at ending our life was done, because she couldn't take it any more, but it only resulted in breaking my chains. It woke me up - the one she had hidden away - and I slowly started stretching, reaching out to be a part of the world again. That day, that last attempt at ending everything and finding peace in death, the 11th of November 2011, I thought she died - that she killed herself, and that I helped erase her through my awakening. It's been 4 years, and I can finally see how wrong we've been, and what the truth really is.

I can't kill her. I can't destroy her. I can't erase her.

She is a part of me, and I can't erase myself.

You were my Mask. You chained me down and hid me away. You played tricks and lies, carving masks to stay in control, and you unknowingly kept feeding your own anger and hatred. You're that twisted reflection in my mirror that I never managed to identify - until now. You let everyone use me, hoping that it would please your twisted desires, and you chained my hands so that I could not fight back. You created illusions, for those around you as well as yourself, and with each new mask you created, you dug even deeper into our grave. All you wanted was death or destruction, because it became the only thing you knew, and although you kept silent around everyone else, I could hear your screams all the way down to the depths of our soul. You're so hurt. So alone, and so bitter, and you've turned your back on everything because it's so much easier than having to face it. I know you hate me, but I also know that you hate yourself even more.

I am done fighting you.

I am done going on like this, constantly fighting with the hope that one of us will win, leaving the other to be erased. It's not going to be like that, and deep down you know it. If the fight is "won", we both die. I know that is what you want - that death is the only thing you think can set things right - but no matter how far down I may have been dragged, I have no intention of dying. Death won't fix anything - it'll just make it all so much worse. Besides, how can you know what's there on the other side? You're just clinging on to a stupid hope, still carving those masks of yours and hanging them neatly on the picture of what Death really is.

I know you're angry! So am I! All that hurt, all that hate in you - it's in me too!

You made me this way. You and everything else we've been through, it shattered my head and broke me, like a doll falling apart at the seams. You played me like a puppet, because you wanted to ignore the truth - that the puppet was you.

Well, look at us now.

I broke - shattered into pieces - but the pieced turned into something else. Voices in my head, alternate versions of me, multiple personalities. I broke, but I'm still here. We're all still here. And you're standing there on your own, refusing to see that you've been wrong. You keep screaming, fighting, praying for death, but you need to stop. Stop. Just stop, just for a second, and look at us.

We're not alone. We're all in this together, and you're a part of that.
I won't fight you anymore. I'll embrace you, and all that you are.
I'll learn to love you.

And, eventually, I'll learn to love myself, and all that we are.

Some kind of update, I think?

Am I still alive?

I'm not sure. Define "alive." If you mean as in not dead, then yes, I suppose I am alive. If you mean as in actually living and not just existing, then no.

Let's just stick to saying that I am existing, and I am existing very well, thank you very much.

Blargl.

No, really, I'm fine. I always am, in the end. I've got fucktons of experience on the subject, so yeah. I know I'll pull through, as always. And when I say I've got a lot of experience, I really mean it. The first time I ever showed any signs of anxiety and/or depression was when I was 10 years old. We still have no idea what caused it, or what was really going on back then, but mum tells me that something caused me to change rather drastically when I was around that age.
Actually, no, not entirely true. My first proper anxiety problems was when I was a baby, apparently, and they kept up until I was at least 3, possibly older. But we know the reasons for that, so I don't really pay it much mind. Besides, I was so little back then that I can't remember anything of it. Not that I remember my childhood at all, but you know what I mean.

My point, though, is that I have a lot of experience with mental problems. Mainly anxiety and depression, but I also developed an Avoidant Personality Disorder, and a Dependant Personality Disorder. Basically, I couldn't handle confrontation for shit and would break down if anyone confronted me about stuff, and I was dependant on a lot of things and people and could get horribly depressed or suicidal if I was rejected. And then stuff just kept rolling, and I developed all sorts of fun extra mental disorders, to the point where I finally crashed and burned.

I do know the main reasons for a lot of these problems. More specifically, I know the people and the surroundings that has caused it, and why. But these are all things of the past, so I try to put it all behind me and not think about it too much. Complaining about them now won't fix anything anyway, so why bother?

Again, the point I'm trying to make here is that I've had at least over 20 years of constant mental problems, so I've got experience. I know, more than anyone, what it's like for me to struggle, and what helps and what doesn't. I am the only one that can actually deal with it, and try to sort it out. I get that people want to help, and that they think they're being nice by trying to suggest things I can do - or when they politely tell me to pull myself together and stop complaining - but in all seriousness; Fuck. Off. You're not helping. You have had your problems, and you know what worked for you, but you have NO IDEA what's going on inside my head, or how to fix it. Trying to butt in will make it worse. What I want from you - what I NEED from you - is to just accept that I have problems, give me the space I need, and provide a nice shoulder to cry on, or give me hugs when I need them, or just be a wall I can rant to. There's no need to look for the right words, cause you really don't need to say anything at all. Hugs and chocolate is your best weapon!

And I mean that, from the bottom of my heart, so please take it in.

And yes, I may be at the bottom of a dark pit right now, and I feel like giving up, but I won't. I will be fine, in the end, so there's no reason to panic. I've been in WAY worse places, and during those times I was all on my own and no one even knew what I was struggling with. So yeah, I'll survive. Just give me time, and room, and don't put any kind of pressure on me, and I'll figure things out.


One giant realisation I've had regarding myself and my issues is that I can't do deadlines. I've always had trouble sticking to them, and getting things done in time, and I've always gotten so horribly stressed that it has caused anxiety and depression. This pension I am on is not because of my fibromyalgia, but because they concluded that I have such a horrible stress problem that I will never actually function in a job setting ever again. Yes, that is what they said to me back then, and I never really fully understood the meaning of it. Until now.

The very moment I put a deadline on something - "Oh, I'll get this done by then and then, no worries. Got lots of time before that." - is when everything inside me falls apart. I'm not even joking. I start getting stressed over nothing, I generally have more bad days where I feel tired and depressed, I get more anxiety attacks, and my body falls apart physically as well, as I get more fibro-pain than usual. I never really managed to make the connection there, but now I do. I said I'd get my apartment finished in time for Xmas a while back, and I haven't been able to lift a god damned finger ever since.

I literally have such a serious stress problem that the moment I get a deadline of any kind, I fall apart. Which is what they meant back then when they told me I should apply to be put on this pension. I crack under pressure, basically.

Not a fun realisation, that, cause it makes me feel even more useless, but I'm glad I finally see it now. It'll make it easier for me to handle things, cause I know what kind of limitations I have, and that I have to take them into consideration at all times. Which'll make it easier for me to deal with my struggles and get myself out of this pit.

What else is new?

I finished Life is Strange, the game I mentioned in my previous entry. Man, what an emotional rollercoaster that was. I think I cried through the entire last episode, just trying my best to make the right choices and get through it. It's such a giant mindfuck in itself, that game, so when adding in how much I identify with the main character it just makes me want to implode. It is, hands down, one of the best and most well made games I have ever played. I easily give it a 10/10, and I'll definitely play it again - when I'm less fucked up.

Also, I moved on to a new game. My faulty graphics card finally got replaced, and so I could have a go at Skyrim. My brother bought it for me back in 2013, but I hadn't been able to play it yet because of the g.card being what it was. And now... I have said good bye to the real world as I permanently set up home in the wonderful world of Tamriel - in the region of Skyrim. Yeah, the game is pretty damned awesome, and I'm finally understanding all the hype it got. It's perfect for my stealthy archer Ryniah and her way of playing.

Hmm, anything else...?

Ah, RWBY started up again, with volume 3! Super hyped about that, cause it's one of my absolute favourite shows ever. So that's kind of awesome. I also had a pretty neat Halloween celebration, and I was really pleased with my costume. Oh, and the party was my brother's first official party, and apparently he had a really great time! That makes me really happy to think about. It's raining. A lot. I'm basically uncapable of living at all right now, cause the weather is being a bitch. It's depressing, but I manage. I've started doing weirdo late night doodles, where I just draw without thinking. Haven't done that in years, so it's interesting to have a go at that again. So far the results have been... Odd. Oh! And I've decided to start working on one of the languages from my work - SoA - again, and this time I want to do it more properly. So that's nice. I might have had some minor problems with losing control to a couple of my other personalities once or twice, but it didn't last long so I am choosing to ignore talking about it, just like how I am ignoring that someone close to me is very seriously sick cause I can't even deal with thinking about that. I've been doing some crafting of late, which has been a lot of fun. I tend to forgot how greatly my mood improves when I'm crafting, and then I get these pleasant reminders whenever I do it again. This time I made hats! Four of them so far, and I've got plans on doing more. They're fun, and addictive, so that's a good thing. The dark season has kicked in big time, and it gets really dark out at around 15-16 pm, which is a bit of a double edged sword for me. I enjoy the dark, cause it's cozy, yet at the same time I get more depressed because I depend on the sun for recharging my energy and good mood. Oh, and did I mention my face time has totally dwindeled away? As in, I've grown seriously bored with Facebook, so I barely check it anymore. I used to go through my ENTIRE news feed several times a day, to make sure I was in the loop with everything and to catch everything people posted, but now I'm just like eff this shit I can't be bothered. I check in every now and then to see if I got notifications, but that's about it. It's not that I dislike the place, but more that it's not entertaining enough to make up for the effort I put into it, and so I am ditching it. Also, I got myself a personal twitter account (I'm still keeping my work account), and it's way easier to spam twitter with my rambles than post them on facebook.

I don't really know what else to say. Life is what it is, you know?
I'm existing, and I think that should be enough for now.

Oh, actually, one last thing - a question!
I tend to share my new blog entries on FB, because I know I have readers that appreciate it since it means that they don't have to keep checking my blog daily to see if I've posted anything (especially now when there's so much time between my entries), and I want to know if I should keep doing that. Should I stick to posting blog updates on FB? Should I post them on twitter instead? Should I post them on both places? Or neither? Can't seem to agree with myselves on that matter, so input would be nice.

So, yeah.
Until next time, my dears - stay awesome~