Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Addiction










AA isnt an off base place for me, i have kind of become a slave to the alcohol when opiates left my life. Still struggling with bouts of maddening depression, and suicide idealization.  Until i cure my inner demons, i am doomed to be a slave to addition. I am my own worst enemy, and my own trigger.

  Everytime i fail i sink, into a dark pit of depression, self pitty, and sucidal idealization. Method of though "well i fucked up again, all i do is fuck up, i will never have the life i deam of - i should it all up, and make everyones life easier." Why did i realize i had another addction? i am familiar with addiction. I wish i had seen it before i alienated you, i miss you terribly. I cry for the loss of your companionship, your forgiving eyes of shades of blue, and for the pain i left behind. I feel feelings once agai, and its rush in like a monsoon, Almost intolerable. Sometimes i cant breathe - and see to be all i think about. How could i hurt everyone so badly, and not realize it? How could i treat people like objects? How could i have been so blind? Every song wrings true, every song brings me back to pain staking realization. Third eye blind - Deep inside of you " I would walk with my people if i could find them. and i'd say that "im sorry to you" "I'm sorry to you" but i dont want to call you, but then i want to call you, cuz i dont want to crush you, but i feel like crushing you. I took for granted you were with me, i breathe by your looks, and look right though you. And we were broke and didnt know."

A single tear rolls down m cheek, as the words roll off my tounge and out of my lips. I am so sorry, and i do know how to tell you, or if you ever believe me.  And i wonder if you will understand, or even read this. Perhaps i made up everything in my ow mind.. Pseudologia fantastica
 "I would chain myself if i could, So i could'nt reach anyone - cause no more pain. If i cut the world off - i cant hurt you, And you cannot hurt me. I am so sorry.. I am just a pain staking, pitiful stain on the side walk you walk on daily - some look down and see - but no body stops and bothers with me. And thats the way it should be. If you give me an inch, i'll take a mile. If you fall for my tears - i'll fake a smile. And i dont want to hurt you too, but i will, i am an addict through and through."
   I sit miles and miles away from you, starring at your picture as if it will aknowledge me. Remembering everything we've ever done, wishing i could erase the bad - or at least erase it from your mind. I wish you didnt view me like this. I wish you couldnt see right through me. I am so sorry.

  Sober i realize how deep my depression runs - I cry and i ponder cutting myself, and suicide - then i crave a drink. I hold my desire chip from AA but until it changes whats inside of me, its just a cheap piece of metal, and their just a group of people who think i dont want to change. Until i correct myself there is no point in you even wknowledging me. I cant hurt you anymore. I just want to curl up in a ball, and hurt myself for every painful memory i have.
   Unity, Service, Recovery. 24 hours. To thine own self be true. God grant me the serenity to accept the things i cannot change, courage to change the things i can, and the wisdom to know the difference." i've read it over and over again. And just like any other addict i feel that if people felt what i did, or understood how i feel, they wouldnt condem me for my drink nor my drug use. Hell they would probably help me in my addiction.

     I talk about my sobriety openly with a fellow addict via text. In between texts i hit a bowl of tobacco, but i hold it up real high, so the tobacco doesnt fall out. At which point I am plauged with bad decision memories, and then i wonder... How you are doing, if your sober, and if your life is a lot better with out me in it.

   "I think i'll spend eternity in the city, let the carbon and monoxide choke my thoughts away. Pretty bodies help dissolve the memories, they can never be what she was to me" - Hall and oates - "shes gone"

   Dpressiong - Increasing - anxiety making me iterally ill - sick to my stomach. Feelings washing in and over me as if 10 years worth of emotions are just now able to reach my brain. I cannot concentrate. Often pray for death, leads me to wonder if i need a little 'vacation' to the hospital. I've managed to sneak by all these years and fake 'a normal' for everyone, and pretend to be sober and sane. Now i am beginning to realize if i had gotten help, my life wouldnt be in the shambles it is in currently. I need to really take a step back and really assess my life. I need to get on meds, so i dont constantly feel this way. The anxiety and depressiong are what drives me to drink or use drugs. All i realy know for sure is, in this state i canot function normally. I suppose i've known that for years, but i've never had this level of sobriety to motivate me. I've had depression and anxiety from a young age, as well as a slew of other mental dissorders. Which at a ripe age of 16 i began masking with alcohol - then as i got older i began masking with other things. When i got clean off meds, i became a manic depressant, and a drunk. Which i hid or would talk my way out of. I'm very good (in my eyes) at validating stupid bullshit.

   I am still being pulled towards an inebriated state, just to cope with my mental issues. I realize that is how my addictions started - to cope with myself and my own mental disorders.  

Creative Commons LicensePhilosophy Of A Borderline by Jessi James is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at jamesborderline.blogspot.com

Sunday, August 4, 2013

Manic Depression







 I know there is a reason for everything, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. I remember everything I've done wrong, from a very young age, because i replay them every night while lying in bed. I know there is a reason for the state my life is in now, call it karma, an act of god (Or higher power.) I believe we do pay for everything that we do to hurt others, for every wrong we make. My depression makes a mockery of this weekly. I slip into a depression over one thing, but its never just one thing. It may start as one thing, but as i sit in my depressed state i can make lists of reasons why i'm "down" or why i'm crying.
Whats the first thing a depressant reaches for? A stimulant. A drug, an alcohol, something to numb the pain. How do they validate it? "NO ONE should have to feel this miserable, this isn't what life is about. Why cant i be like everyone else, why cant i be normal?" Numb the pain, numb the brain, numb the thought process, distract yourself, smile. The fact that its temporary does not matter, its the fact that even for a second you do not feel like a burnt pancake in the trash can. You can feel, even momentarily, like your mistakes are okay, like you life has a purpose, like you don't have to cry.
I keep chanting the fact that everything happens for a reason, "if this hadn't happened, you wouldn't be this way, or that way" i say to myself about assorted things. Trying to overcome the issues on going right now, makes me feel regret, sorrow, or pain for my past actions. The actions any other day i can dignify with something, i no longer can validate them, nor dignify them. Depression consumes me, often, and usually i don't take any action to try and relieve it. If i'm depressed sitting alone, i will sit and just keep digging a bigger depressed hole to bury myself into.
It only takes one tiny sound, to create an avalanche. One small pain, can turn into a world of "why am i here, whats the point, my existence is meaningless, i don't want to be here anymore." It progresses, its consumes, just a slow building darkness, that will color your perception by minutes, consume your world in hours. Once i start entering the state of depression i am unable to see anything but bad, wrongs, hurt. I don't want to talk to people, i don't want to tell them how i feel because i don't want them to attempt to talk me out of it; It only makes me feel worse. I don't want to watch a TV show, i don't want to watch a movie (Unless it relates to the beginning cause of my depression.) Any music i hear is just noise unless i can relate a topic to the lyrics. Unless they are feeling what i'm feeling. Which means its not peppy upbeat music, its soft, its painful, and its emotional. If i manage to try and go outside the lines of that, it ends up angry, hard rocking angry music, which just puts me in a different form of depression.
If i try to explain what i'm feeling, or why i'm feeling it, or if i even just let you catch on to what i'm feeling; i feel naked and exposed, I feel embarrassed, i feel like its an uphill battle to even muster up an explanation. I will in fact regret in forming you that i felt anything other than your "normal." I will hide my tears, i will lock it away, i will not try to validate myself, or express myself to you. "Lock down mode" that's what i call it, when i cant even fathom confessing the tiniest thought, because i feel like you know way too much already.
The silence may be deafening, but my thoughts are loud and clear, and my mind will not let me share them. Its not that i'm scared to tell you what i'm feeling, its that i just don't want to explain what hurts, and why. Maybe it will seem trivial to you, maybe it will seem impossible to relate, maybe i will come across as crazy, maybe you will make it seem like its nothing, when obviously it is something very important to me. I don't want to ever be told that what began the depression was nothing, sometimes i may know that, but i cannot be told that by someone else.  I would rather sit silently, knowing you know something is wrong, than to try and explain or confess anything more than i have. I often wonder why i let the words pass my lips; the words that let you catch on to me, and my emotions.
I wonder if it was some deep seeded "want" or "yearning" subconsciously to have you pull me out of this. Then i have to sit and wonder if you're capable of doing so, very few people are. But there has been the rare one or two that have been able to pull me out, no matter how deep i dug myself into this hole. Although in the midst of the depression forming itself, i will let it build to a large degree, almost like i don't want to be taken away from it.it attaches itself, Ironically like an addict to a drug. Then again, your left to question whether most drug addicts suffer from depression. Manic depression, where we seem high functioning and down from time to time. But when we seem "down" its so much more to us. It puts a grey tint to the world, it puts our own minds on lock down where we cannot perceive of anything other than the dreadful burdens we bare; or thoughts we bare.
"Razors pain you; rivers are damp; acids stain you; and drugs cause cramp. Guns aren't lawful; nooses give; gas smells awful; you might as well live." - Dorthy Parker There is always a reason to let go, and let the hurt just consume you into submission, but there is always a reason not to. Sometimes one reason out-shadows the next though, it just depends on the person.
I guess what Dorthy Parker forgot to inform her readers about, was a "slow suicide." Where you slowly let things consume you, drugs and (or) alcohol.  When you know your body is damaged from all the pain you're trying to numb, but you cant take that step to make that step to let it all go at this very moment. Maybe out of Thanatophobia (fear of death) or just out of inability to do it now. Its never a bad choice to live, it may hurt, but didn't they say the best things in life are the hardest to come by? "you don't get something for nothing" and all that jazz?
I was a drug addict; Is it possible some of the pain i feel is because i didn't follow the 12 steps. I never did my apologies step, i never got forgiveness for my mistakes. Does that hold me back in a lot situations? That's one question i don't haven't any answers for. Ive done wrongs, and i hurt for those wrongs. Is it apologies or repents that may set me free? Most of the time i am unable to cope to any of my mistakes, or wrong doings. I don't want to talk about them because i know how it makes me look. Is that in itself is vain? Its thinking from other peoples point of view, so it must be. Why should anyone Else's view on my own life matter? I cant answer that, but it does.. I form attachments way too quickly with people, and it tends to just hurt me in the end. Their not formed so easily, but once their formed i cannot let go. That may be my biggest weakness. It doesn't matter how small our relationship was, it meant something to me. I don't mourn, so perhaps that's why i don't get over things. I miss a man i thought i would love forever, i miss a child i thought i could mother, i miss a friend i thought cared. I I hurt from all of those, even though its been enough time, any other person wouldn't even think upon them, but with me, its always there. Why cant i let go, why cant i let hurt go, why cant i forget the bad, why cant i forget the hurt? Why are these the things i constantly remember over and over? I beg my own mind to let them go, i see other people let worse things go, and i cant relieve myself of things of a lower caliber.
This isn't really a conclusion, there really isn't an end.. It's just a bunch of questions and statements, and that's what depression is. Its not able to be defined from our point of view. There is no answer to the questions, there are no solution. It just is. You either have understand it or you don't, simple as that.




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Based on a work at jamesborderline.blogspot.com

Sunday, July 21, 2013

Foot prints in time



I had a dream that I was raising three birds, two birds were brightly colored large birds. The third was a moulting parrot. Balding, sad, and lonely in the eye. The two Brightly colored beautiful birds left a beautiful pearl white and purple egg. I placed the egg in the cage with the lonely balding parrot, because the other birds wouldn't keep the egg warm. When i returned to the parrot it had chewed its wings off, and one of its legs, and was laying depressed upon the floor of its cage. I tried to help the bird, but it was no use - i then woke up. Plagued by this dream, i kept replaying it all day.
Last week i was planning to write a piece about the psychological damage infertility does on the female Psyche. I realized that this dream symbolized everything i needed to explain. The two birds made an egg, it was given to the lone bird, and it slowly ate away at it.
I was never diagnosed as being barren, which some may find stupid. I never wanted to be told for sure i was unable to conceive a child. I am a dreamer, and i like to dream that one day it will happen. If i am told it never will, i am not sure that would make me stop wanting it. I believe in some way that is the meaning of life. Not only bringing offspring into the world, but leaving a piece of yourself. The child does not have to be from your own body, to be a part of you. If you leave a lasting impression upon someone, you are never truly gone, you live on through them.
The only problem is as a woman, that is hard to swallow. Being barren, feeling that you are not really a woman. Everyone around you changes as they age, they settle down, raise their children, and stabilize. Where as i feel like i am in a downward spiral that i cant pull out of, and refuse to try. I have always felt that something was missing, some big part of me. I feel like my growth as an adult has been stunted. Something seeming so trivial to others, seems so damning to me. There are plenty of women out there, going through the same ordeal, yet i have never felt more alone.
I stumbled into a situation where i was caring for a child for several months. Watching her grow, and learn. I tried to fight any attachment because i didn't want to hurt when it ended, as i knew it would. When you are looking into a baby's eyes, and are aware it relies on you for everything, there is no way to not form an attachment. Beginning to fill that role, succumbing to those feelings. Once it seemed more permanent, as in the fact that dcfs had placed the child with her grandfather and i, and the mother was not in the picture. The role begain to become me, take me over. I realized I was responsible for everything, and I let that family unit feeling wash over me.
       I stand before you a woman, who doesn't always show pain. To be put in that paternal instinct, and then have it taken away, it hurts. Why does it hurt so tremendously, i know i don't have the chance to be that person alone. I am incapable of having children, so when i got close to the baby - and to have her swiftly taken, reminded me I will never feel that way again. And i reflect back on all the ways I wasn't perfect, all the screw ups I made.
 Thinking if i just had one chance to do it again, I would do it differently, i would have been the best I could be. I wasnt perfect,  made my mistakes, what parent (biological or not) dosent? And with out the baby, my life seems meaningless.When i text her grandfather, who has her now, i was told i couldnt see her. The child i raised from 2 months, who will be a year This August. I am sure it may be better i lose contact, but something inside of me wont let me. 

Short back story on the mother, a drug addict. A very good person, when she was sober; Which wasnt often. She loved her kids, when she was home; Again not often. When she left for 7 days (to get baby formula) she could not call and check in on the child i had. She couldn't even bring formula for her starving child, i went and got some on my own. The baby's grandfather and I did everything financially and emotionally for those children. Three Children in all, and i began to think of their grandfather as a father; We all became a family unit. The baby, never went without anything. She was truly loved, and i would give her anything in my power. The biological mother Didn't even want this baby when she was pregnant, she wanted to give her up. I was around this child since she was born, but I was there full time for the baby since she was 2 months old. It may have taken a little bit to adjust to taking care of the two older girls, plus a baby. As much as I wasn't a morning person, I would get up everyday and feed them, cloth them, do hair, help with makeup, and see their beautiful smiles before school. As soon as they would leave the baby would awaken, and that started my day again. Many times I wished I didn't have to stay awake after long nights and deal with it, since they were not my children; but I still wish i had it all again. Just to feel the way i felt then. And to realize i cant have that, ever in my life. I will always be close to the children around me, but they will never be mine. I want a child, one no could take away, that I can have free roam over.

For quite sometime I
This baby that showed me what i was missing, this child that i miss so much its hard to function - She will never remember i was there, she will never remember how much I loved her. Just as I wouldn't have realized what i was really missing with out her. When people say get over it, they don't know what their insinuating. They believe unknowingly that its easy to be taunted by the fact of being a mother and having it taken away, knowing it will never return.

So how does infertility effect women? In so many ways, not just the aforementioned story of myself. Their are many women suffering from being barren, each cope with it differently. Some cope better, or worse than myself. Some aren't bothered, never wanted kids in the first place. Then there are those whom cant even be around children as they are reminded of what their missing. As a woman, learning you cannot contribute to a generation, its demoralizing. As this is a touchy subject for myself, My apologies if this is an rant type piece i will not continue forth..




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Based on a work at jamesborderline.blogspot.com

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

idolization

Are suicidal thoughts like an addiction? once you think them do they never go away?
i noticed I've had suicidal thoughts for awhile, and even with my fear of death, I once in awhile still have them.
then it leaves me with a feeling of almost withdrawal, like i want to experience it, but I'm holding myself back.
so I seem to almost flash back and forth between a feeling of living with fear of death, and wanting to go there
quicker than planned. so my point is, once that the option has become enough of a thought, that its almost an action,
do those feelings ever end? If a fear of death doesn't prevent me from experiencing this than what would? Therapy? I cant say I agree with therapy 100%.
Thanatophobia is what i suffer from since my last Over Dose. it makes me wonder what it feels like when i pass on,
where the i, that makes me, myself goes. where does my soul go. does it hurt? there are more questions than any
one person has times for, but believe I've given it some time.
But my real question is, once that's in our system as a fall back, does it ever actually leave? or is there?
times get too tough and we think "hey i would just rather be dead than actually deal with this situation?"
Where does it actually stop? or does it? I feel like its almost an addiction, and maybe i seek the situations
that push me so far that I want to just not be 'here' anymore?
Do my behaviors signify that I'm trying to slowly move forward to a premature death? and does my lifestyle seem like
it will drive me to an early grave? and if I realized, without a doubt it did drive me to an early grave, would I stop it? Or continue to live as I do?
do you live it up if you're dying or do you slow it down? What's the point in slowing down if you're going to die anyway?
if I slow it down, am I just making myself miserable in the one life I have to live?
Now I cant actually commit to the thoughts I get once in awhile, but what if one day I am in my weakest and I do?
I mean I've had enough time to devolve a plan. so what if one day is really hard and I decide, its
enough to push me over that edge like it did the last time. A lot has changed since my last attempt, and I feel like
as long as I know the warning signs and I have some type of vent system with friends than I am not going to follow through.
its not even the vent system per say, its the fact that I have to relay the thoughts I am having, and thus realizing maybe
they are more trivial than they seem. As well as getting a reaction to my ideas, never letting on to the other person
that suicide is in the works. Because the last time I did, police were called, and I wont ever make the same mistake twice.
At least not in that retrospect.
Is it me holding myself back, my fear of death, or my own humanity that's holding me back. I say holding me back like i was
going to achieve something great by completing the ideas I sometimes get. Its not often those thoughts come into my
head but when it is i am not me... Not that I am always the same person one day to the next, due to my borderline personality
disorder.
Addiction is something I've dealt with, and its nothing new. So i am feeling like suicidal thoughts are on the same par.
that they come in, just like a trigger, and once they're there, you cannot rid yourself of them. they will be there,
and they will haunt you until you complete their task. Until you use.. but just as they teach you in AA you have to know
your triggers, and adjust your life and actions accordingly. You have to take things one day at a time..



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Philosophy Of A Borderline by Jessi James is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at jamesborderline.blogspot.com

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Mucky Muck




Dear Tommy,

  I don't blame you for the pain i'm in now. I was in pain before you, it's only logical i be in pain after you. It stems deeper than you know. You just took me up so high, when your embrace faded/vanished, i fell with such force i lodged myself in snuggly - into the muck of depression. I've climbed my way to about where i was before. It's hard most days to even get out of bed, not because your not here, but because my own demons have grown so strong. The muck seems to super charge them, making it that much more of a struggle to even open my eyes. It's my own demons keeping me down, they're like an anchor around my neck; and my motors on the fritz - deeper i go.

       I miss you, you always understood all this like no one else did. I'm so alone its hard to go on. I think i only do it out of laziness, and fear. You were always the one with the courage. I am but a meek scared little creature, deep inside the devil's cavern; Carving myself a cave to dwell in for eternity. I dont know where my back bone went, i must have lost it along my travels.
     
       I pray sometimes, for you, for me, for family, for peace. But other than all that, i'm doing fine.. rest peacefully il mio amore.

Yours Truly,
Jessi James



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Philosophy Of A Borderline by Jessi James is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at jamesborderline.blogspot.com

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

im not too sure, and im not too proud..


"My head throbs with all the thoughts hatching.
My stomach knots from all the turmoil i swallow.
My chest constricts - my breath is stolen.
I cant walk this off balance, I don't know how to handle this.
I don't know how you made it this long? I guess I'm just not as strong.
I just long to be where you are."

I felt the need to express myself, i don't know how to formulate all the feelings and thoughts i have - onto paper. I feel multiple feelings, and think conflicting thoughts. I sink into a deep depression easily, but cannot easily pull myself out of it. My anxiety is through the roof, i bare the ashes of a heartache, demons are attacking from all sides, I'm lost and confused, i feel alone no matter who's
around. When the Demons begin to feed on me, sucking me dry, i sink into the darkest corners of my mind. a place i call the pits of hell, and i am not me when i am there. I lose all motive to do even the most basic things - Move, eat, sleep, smile, etc. I begin to seek any numbing agent (intoxicant) to numb the pain of my soul being devoured. I puke up anything i attempt to eat, my stomach is full of turmoil; From all of the emotion i swallow in place of sustenance.  When i sleep, i never want to wake up to reality. But generally, it is hard to sleep because of all the thoughts and pain (which isn't only physical but emotional) i cannot lull myself into a state of enough comfort,where my eyes can close, and my mind can zoom out and shut down. most days my mind feel fried from all the racing thoughts. They go so fast, and hit so deeply it is as if my brain malfunctions.
I fear i will never be anything in life, but i also have given up hope, and motive to try. I am in a situation now where its sink or swim. I am letting myself ink, i see myself doing it, and i refuse to paddle at all. its as if i want the water to suck me up, but i don't want it enough to force it. I wouldn't mind if it happened, but i am afraid to force it.
Death has scared me since my last overdose. Dec.22.11. and now I've seen first hand what suicide does to people - since Tommy May.24.12. I don't want anyone to hurt, or cry, but i also don't know how else to kill this darkness inside, to fix my short circuit. I have had it for many years, but its grown so strong the last 3-4 years. Battling addiction, divorce, break-ups, housing issues, losing loved ones, and my own attempted suicide proved to be a battle, abuse, and my own feelings of inadequacy.


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Philosophy Of A Borderline by Jessi James is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at jamesborderline.blogspot.com

Monday, June 11, 2012

One



          I committed suicide December 22nd about 1am. I was just fed up and knew the torture would only get worse. I was a drain on everyone and it hurt me. And i was alone, i had no one who needed me (i thought.) so I took 85 Tylenol PM, in front of my ex-boyfriend mark, he laughed, as if it was a big joke; Until i collapsed on the hallway floor, on my way to the restroom. Then he screamed at me "You stupid fucking bitch! I hope you’re fucking happy!" all the way to our local Hospital E.R. I remember the feeling before i fell; i had this burning from inside, and unlike anything I ever felt. I was so tired, and yet so awake. A burning was slowly growing, and went from my abdomen, through my chest, and into my throat, where it then seeped into my mouth. I remember the taste, and feel on the back of my throat; i thought it was my soul escaping. My friends opinion it was the devil breathing on me, or in me i am not sure which.


          I felt lighter afterwards, but also heavier; i felt lighter inside, but my body was dragging. They rushed me back to a room in the E.R., fawned all over me; and then left me sitting i assumed i was fine, so i left. I ran out, in the back of my mind i escaped fearing being taken to the mental ward. The city police came to my house, where my ex-boyfriend couldn’t convince them i was fine.  So he let them in the house, where i refused to go willingly with them. In my right mind i would've known it would have just been easier to just go with them and not fight it that i wouldn’t win. That’s not however what i did. I chanted to them "I’m not going" over and over. I pressed myself against the bathroom door, which was the only place i could go before they came in. The bathroom door however had no lock on it, so i leaned, and angled my body so i was between the door and sink. It took about 40 minutes, and 5 male police UN screwing the door knob, and body slamming the door in a team, to get me out. I then went out willingly they grabbed my arms, i threw them back and drug the police officer behind me down the hallway to the door. He at first thought i was struggling to get away, but i was just thinking "let’s get this shit over with." They sent me back to the E.R. in an ambulance, where i sat all night until i was put in ICU. No one came to see me, i was alone, and scared. Uncertain if this was really going to kill me, if so when, what would i feel? I was alone missing everyone i had ever known. Not realizing i only knew them at that moment as a worldly bond. In the ICU one friend came up, one friend whom has been there through everything, whom I’d give anything to, in any situation. Jami, she came to see me, she checked on me. She even kept me company on the phone when they moved me into a general room. Although i didn’t even tell my mom i OD'd until recently, she just knew i was in the hospital since i phoned my step farther.


           i have felt ever since, that things have gotten worse and worse despite my effort, or positivity in life, and new found fear of death. It suddenly accrued to me one day, as if i had always known and only just realized "did i survive the Overdose?" I wondered if in limbo they created this mock up world, so real at first it lures you into not realizing it isn’t real, where i slowly torture myself for doing wrong; and for hurting people. I tried to do research at that time, and find answers for the many questions my mind was creating. "Am i crazy? How can i tell either way?" i would wonder. "Do any others experience this, and even if they do how would i know?"


          Tommy was the only person to understand this; he was the only person who didn’t stare at me questioning my sanity. I offered the option about maybe it was a coma and i was creating all of this in my mind. Tommy and i had an inside thing we would say about the coma Theory. We made up this science fiction, romantic fairy tale, where we were both in coma's in the same hospital, rooms apart; But together in our minds. Meeting and falling in love, and connected by a power that was unexplained. A soul mate connection that would never be broken, and couldn’t be stopped, even in a coma.


          I never stopped wondering if i was really alive, most of the time i would forget or be distracted by actual life to wonder that. When i was alone or fearful, i would sit and wonder if it was a coma; and if so was Tommy there with me? The weeks flew by, and Tommy and i began talking nonstop, seeing each other whenever we were in the same town. We had our share of arguments, and even a point where we didn’t talk for 2 and half weeks. I never stopped thinking about him, wondering where he was, if he was okay. I would lie in bed and stare at the pictures, and remember lying on his chest early one morning. Him telling me "Don't worry I’ll be here forever, nothing is going to happen to Me." i sighed in a sarcastic manner, as this was in response to my worry over his health. I remembered that day telling him "i no longer want to have anything to do with you, i won’t see you anymore." I said this because of a guilty feeling about our being together. It didn’t even last 24 hours, i had to know he made it back to town okay, and how everything went with his other girlfriend. It was a strain, i wanted to know, but at the same time i didn’t. I have no ill will towards her, i know she deserves better. The things she had to put up with, and go through when tommy was on his drinking binges, or Drug binges. I myself drank, but i didn’t (and still don’t) do any hard drugs. He went back home, with the longtime girlfriend, and tried to hang himself. That was March 30th, i remember the girlfriend sending me a text "what happened in town, Tommy hung himself tonight" i was devastated. I found out he was okay and assumed she had lied to me. I found out weeks later when i went all the way there, illegally, to get him that he had actually attempted to hang himself. When i found out from his mouth that it was true, and that he was okay, i asked why? To which he replied simply "To see what would happen" and made reference to the fact he said he could not die. We played hot and cold for months after that...


          May 24th I got a text at 9am that Tommy was in town at a mutual friend's house; His brother was working next door. To which i said "and? I have nothing to say to him." knowing in my heart, i wanted to see him more than anything, and i knew in my heart i would. But i could not allow myself to look like a fool, so i had to maintain that i did not care for this man. 2:33pm i was texting my friend on the couch, and Tommy and his brother pull up in my driveway. I rush out, and then pretend i don’t want to talk to tommy, but i couldn’t even keep the act up for more than 45 seconds. I was so happy to hear his voice and see his face. Tommy insists i come with him, i didn’t know where, with tommy it was always an adventure. Tommy, although i keep insisting i am busy, but glad to see him, will not take "no" for an answer. An action that anyone whom has met him knows it’s not characteristic. If you tell him no, he will let it roll off and move on before you bat an eye. I agree to go, and he insists i grab the dog, that he calls His dog, or our dog, Roxy. They play, we talk about a drunken voicemail i left him, and he pushes for me to help him with something. I decline, i had a previous obligation. Tommy was always doing this, blowing into town, and i have to drop everything for him. Jami needed my help with her van, and this is the girl that’s been there through very rough times, i wouldn’t ever tell her no. I ended up rushing around and helping Tommy, then was furious with myself. Feeling as if i had betrayed myself, feeling hurt, that maybe that’s the only reason he had insisted i go with him, and a little Worrisome. I leave in a furious rush he looks at me as i stood by the door, i glanced back to look at him, and paused because i felt something. I thought it was just worry over the errand we had run, and he just looked at me. A honk from outside broke the eye lock we had going on, and i gnashed my teeth and said "If i get in trouble Tommy, I'll fucking kill you!" i remember he looked so weird, i thought it was the drugs, and the fact he had been up for 3 days drinking; and then he said "Why don't you just stay?" To which i felt as if he hadn’t listened to me a day in my life, he knew what Jami meant to me, He knew i had these plans days before he even showed up in town. I slammed the door, not realizing that was the last time i would ever see him alive.


          I found out 3 hours later he had been alone in the garage, and hung himself. A mask on his face, electric cord around his neck. His brother was the one who had to find him. We both blamed ourselves, we knew how Tommy was, and we knew he didn’t really mean to do this. He knew there was antifreeze in the garage, and we had talked about it several times. He always said how easy and quick it would be to use that, and stated if i actually ever really wanted to, that i should go that route. So Why would he hang himself so oddly if he meant to do it, when he knew for a fact there was antifreeze 2 feet from him? Knowing this now, did not help me then. The shock set it, the disbelief was strong, but the fear of the unknown was worse. I immediately got on the phone and made calls to the hospital until i got my answer. His mother answered the hospital phone and said "He's gone...” and hung up. Simple, direct, and i stood there still not believing. And screaming at myself inside, "WHY DIDNT I STAY" i know he wouldn’t be dead, if i had just stayed. Thinking that way doesn’t make a bit a difference, it’s going in the opposite direction of this acceptance.


          A week a blamed myself, and still didn’t believe he was really gone, the funeral came up. He died on a Thursday, and his funeral was on the next Thursday. I did not even know i was allowed to go (due to the situation) until the hour before it started. Then i saw him, lifeless, beautiful, serene, Stiff, Cold; his neck raw, bruised, and flat. When the reality set in, i was glad to have his mom holding me up on one side, and a friend holding me up on the other as i pushed away from the casket. His brother walked up, i grabbed onto him so tightly it was as if my life depended on it; and cried into his shoulder. I was plagued for another week over where his soul went, did i matter to him as much as he matter to me. I received ashes 3rd in line; rotation went Mom, long term girlfriend, and then me; which caused uproar with his siblings. I felt like if i had the ashes i had him back, but i didn’t. I began to wonder if i even deserved any ashes, the way his brother would explain it, i didn’t mean a thing. Maybe i am refusing to believe this, or maybe I’m just grieving. Either way, it is not the point of this very personal piece.


          My anxiety ate me away, my alcohol intake tripled; i wasn't hearing the warnings from friends. "Don't take on his demons, let them disappear." they would warn me. I couldn’t take on his demons, hell maybe his demons were torturing him right then, i would imagine in my mind. Maybe he was standing there in spirit form, trying to plea for help, and i couldn’t do anything. Or maybe he was really at peace, and my tears and constant dwelling were making him restless. All i thought for a week was "give me a sign, any sign, tommy? Tell me you're okay; tell me what it’s like. Tell me I’ll be okay."


          I did not realize the quest to be sure his soul was at rest, would lead me to the key to my own freedom. Knowledge is power, Knowledge is key, and the text i found in the 'Tibetan Book of the Dead' was the info i feared, and sought at the same time. (Information from wiki)


According to Tibetan tradition, the Liberation Through Hearing During the Intermediate State was composed in the 8th century by Padmasambhava, written down by his primary student, Yeshe Tsogyal, buried in the Gampo hills in central Tibet and subsequently discovered by a Tibetan terton, Karma Lingpa in the 12th century.[7] There were variants of the book among different sects.[8]


The Liberation Through Hearing During the Intermediate State is recited by Tibetan Buddhist lamas over a dying or recently deceased person, or sometimes over an effigy of the deceased. The name means literally "liberation through hearing in the intermediate state".


The Liberation Through Hearing During the Intermediate State differentiates the intermediate state between lives into three bardos:


The chikhai bardo or "bardo of the moment of death", which features the experience of the "clear light of reality", or at least the nearest approximation of which one is spiritually capable.


The chonyid bardo or "bardo of the experiencing of reality", which features the experience of visions of various Buddha forms (or, again, the nearest approximations of which one is capable).


The sidpa bardo or "bardo of rebirth", which features karmically impelled hallucinations which eventually result in rebirth. (Typically imagery of men and women passionately entwined.)


The Liberation Through Hearing During the Intermediate State also mentions three other bardos: those of "life" (or ordinary waking consciousness), of "dhyana" (meditation), and of "dream" (the dream state during normal sleep).


Together these "six bardos" form a classification of states of consciousness into six broad types. Any state of consciousness can form a type of "intermediate state", intermediate between other states of consciousness. Indeed, one can consider any momentary state of consciousness a bardo, since it lies between our past and future existences; it provides us with the opportunity to experience reality, which is always present but obscured by the projections and confusions that are due to our previous unskillful actions.


          I had never heard of it, and the name makes it seem like a book of voodoo, still i was shoved in by a rise in my anxiety which caused a panic attack. I know what most people believe happens to suicide victims souls, and i know what i would have assumed. I do not know what i expected to find when i searched for the info, or was compelled to open a site about Near Death Experiences (http://www.near-death.com/experiences/suicide01.html) i opened the site, and i scrolled around, i reached the following segment and hope was restored that He was okay:


Classifications of Suicide





1.
The first classification includes those who kill themselves in order to hurt someone, get revenge, or who kill themselves out of hatred for someone else. According to Ritchie, these people haunt the living by being aware of every horrible consequence their suicide had on others.
2.
The second classification includes those who, because of mental illness, confusion, or a terminal illness, take their own life. Ritchie states these people are allowed many opportunities from God to grow in love just as any other person would who had not committed suicide. In other words, there are no negative consequences for them.
3.

The third classification includes those who kill themselves from drug, alcohol, or any other addiction. According to Ritchie, these people can become stuck in limbo trying in vain to satisfy their addiction until eventually something frees them. This condition is often called an earthbound condition.


          I continued on as that wasn’t so bad, i was glad to know he was not doomed to an eternity of suffering. I scroll on to reach the next section where Kevin Williams is giving his insight and description of the Tibetan Book of the Dead, when my focus shifted from what i was actually focused on. Suddenly making this inquest about more than Tommy, it suddenly put meaning to our relationship and understanding of one another, and led me back to that conversation about my own Suicide:


The Book of the Dead mentions people who succeeded in committing suicide and who became imprisoned in the experience of their suicide. Accordingly, they can be freed from this condition through the prayers of the living and by them imagining streams of light pouring on them. Such actions free the person from the pain and confusion of their suicide. The Book of the Dead also mentions that people have no choice but to follow any negative karma resulting from their suicide.


Suddenly i wondered if that's what i had been experiencing. If so was i doomed, having not enough prayers for my soul? Did i have no choice but to follow the negative Karma? I suddenly couldn’t learn enough about this site, and this book i had originally thought sounded like witch craft.


The First Bardo


The first bardo comes at the very moment of death, when there dawns the Clear Light of the Ultimate Reality. This is the very content and substance of the state of liberation, if only the soul can recognize it and act in a way to remain in that state. The instructions intended to be read at the moment of the person's death are designed to help him do this. He is told, first of all, to embrace this supreme experience not in a selfish and egoistic way but rather with love and compassion for all sentient beings. This will aid him in the second step, which is to realize that his own mind and self is identical with the Clear Light, implying that he himself IS the Ultimate Reality, "the All-good Buddha", transcending time, eternity, and all creation. If he can recognize this while in this supreme state at the moment of death, he will attain liberation-that is, he will remain in the Clear Light forever. This condition is called the "Dharmakaya", the highest spiritual body of the Buddha.


Most souls, however, will fail to do this. They will be pulled down by the weight of their karma into the second stage of the first bardo, called the Secondary Clear Light seen immediately after death. At this point, there are separate instructions to be read according to the spiritual condition of the person while in life. For an individual advanced in meditation and other spiritual practices, there is repeated over and over the same instructions as at the moment of death, enjoining him to recognize himself as the Dharmakaya.For a person who was still at a student-level on the spiritual path, there is the injunction for him to meditate on his "tutelary deity", that is, the particular god for whom he performed devotional practices while alive. Finally,"if the deceased be of the common folk", unpracticed in any spiritual disciplines, the instruction is to "meditate upon the Great Compassionate Lord", which is to say an "Avatar" worshipped by the multitude, equivalent to Jesus as conceived by the average Christian.

The Second Bardo


If the soul is still not liberated at this stage, it will descend into the second bardo, which is said to last for two weeks. The second bardo is also divided into two parts; in the first, the soul of the deceased encounters what are referred to as "the Peaceful Deities."On each of the seven days, a particular Buddha-being will appear in radiance and glory, with a bevy of angelic attendants. At the same time, on each day in turn there will shine a light from one of the six worlds of the Buddhist universe, called"Lokas" (the basic meaning is "place";our English words "location" and "locale" are derived from the same Sanskrit root).


On the first day of the second bardo, there appears to the soul the divine Father-Mother - that is, the supreme deity of the universe, transcending all dualities, including the division into sexes. The next step in the destiny of the soul is determined by his reaction to this God. If his life on Earth was well lived, he will now be in a state of purity and grace, and he will enter into the joy of the God and attain liberation. If on the other hand he has lived an ignoble and impious life, the effects of his bad karma will cause the intense radiant presence of the God to strike fear and terror in his heart, and he will be drawn instead to the softer light of the Deva-Loka, which has dawned along with this deity. This is still a fairly attractive fate, for the Devas are the Gods (or angels), and their Loka is equivalent to the Christian heaven; however, the Buddhist teaching is that even heaven is not the highest spiritual objective, because it is still only a temporary state in the manifest universe. Liberation is believed to be the only final and permanent resting-place for the soul, an un-manifest state beyond all existence.


On the second day, there appears the second-highest God in the Buddhist pantheon - in fact, he is actually the Second Person in the literal Buddhist Holy Trinity. At the same time, there dawns a smoky light from hell; and here we note that, just as the Buddhist heaven is not a permanent, eternal state, neither is its hell. Even the most wretched souls will eventually work their way out of even the deepest pit of hell, just as even the highest and purest souls will eventually lose their footing in heaven and descend again into the cycle of death and rebirth. Liberation is the only way out.


Once again, if the soul responds to the "dazzling white light"of the second God with the joy of a pure heart, he will be liberated thereby; but if he specifically reacts with ANGER from having indulged in this vice on Earth, he will recoil from the light in fear and be drawn into hell.


The pattern is repeated on the third day; this time it is the fault if egotism that will cause the soul to react to the God with fear, and he will be drawn to the human world, where his next incarnation will thereby take place. On the fourth day dawns the God of Eternal Life; if the soul has a negative reaction to him because of miserliness and attachment, he will be drawn toward rebirth in the Preta-Loka, a world of"hungry ghosts"who have huge stomachs and throats the size of pinholes, and so they wander about in a constant state of unsatisfied ravenous desire. On the fifth day comes God in the form of an Almighty Conqueror; this time it's jealousy that will unseat the soul, and he will be born into the Asura-Loka, a world of fierce warrior-deities (or demons). On the sixth day all the deities return and dawn together, along with the lights from all six Lokas. On the seventh day there appear the Knowledge-Holding Deities, who are more fierce and demonic-looking than those that have previously dawned;and in fact they are sort of a transitional element to the next stage of the second bardo, where the soul encounters the wrathful deities. Meanwhile, if because of stupidity the soul cannot face the Knowledge-Holding Deities, he is drawn toward the Brute-Loka - that is, he will be reborn on Earth as an animal.


In the second week of the second bardo, the soul meets seven legions of Wrathful Deities: hideous, terrifying demons who advance upon him with flame and sword, drinking blood from human skulls, threatening to wreak unmerciful torture upon him, to maim, disembowel, decapitate and slay him.The natural tendency, of course, is for the soul to attempt to flee from these beings in stark, screaming, blood-curdled terror;but if he does, all is lost. The instructions at this stage of the Bardo are for the soul to have no fear, but rather to recognize that the Wrathful Deities are really the Peaceful Deities in disguise, their dark side manifesting as a result of his own evil karma. The soul is told to calmly face each demon in turn and visualize it as the deity it truly is, or else as his own tutelary deity; if he can do this, he will merge with the being and attain the second degree of Liberation, that lesser aspect of it which is now the best he can hope for here in the second bardo.


Furthermore, he is told to awaken to the fact that all these fearsome creatures are not real, but are merely illusions emanating from his own mind. If he can recognize this, they will vanish and he will be liberated.If he can't, he eventually wanders down to the third bardo.

The Third Bardo


In the third bardo the soul encounters the Lord of Death, a fearsome demonic deity who appears in smoke and fire, and subjects the soul to a Judgment. If the dead person protests that he has done no evil, the Lord of Death holds up before him the Mirror of Karma, "wherein every good and evil act is vividly reflected." Now demons approach and begin to inflict torments and punishments upon the soul for his evil deeds. The instructions in the Bardo Thodol are for him to attempt to recognize the Voidness of all these beings, including the Lord of Death himself; the dead person is told that this entire scene unfolding around him is a projection from his own mind. Even here he can attain liberation by recognizing this.


The soul who is still not liberated after the Judgment will now be drawn remorselessly toward rebirth.


The lights of the six Lokas will dawn again; into one of these worlds the soul must be born, and the light of the one he is destined for will shine more brightly than the others.The soul is still experiencing the frightening apparitions and sufferings of the third bardo, and he feels that he will do anything to escape from this condition. He will seek shelter in what appear to be caves or hiding-places, but which are actually the entrances to wombs. He is warned of this by the text of the Bardo Thodol, and urged not to enter them, but to meditate upon the Clear Light instead; for it is still possible for him to achieve the third degree of liberation and avoid rebirth.


Finally there comes a point where it is no longer possible to attain liberation, and after this the soul is given instructions on how to choose the best womb for a favorable incarnation. The basic method is non-attachment:to try to rise above both attraction to worldly pleasures and repulsion from worldly ills.


The final words of the Bardo Thodol are: "Let virtue and goodness be perfected in every way."


In the third bardo they mention "The instructions in the Bardo Thodol are for him to attempt to recognize the Voidness of all these beings, including the Lord of Death himself; the dead person is told that this entire scene unfolding around him is a projection from his own mind. Even here he can attain liberation by recognizing this." Which gave me some comfort - Comfort in knowing that all can be changed, that all is not set, that illusion is all around us. It was afterall the buddist's who said "total enlightenment is to realize that everything around us is an Illusion." A saying i had become particularly found of in recent months. Comforting to know that even in the darkest moment, Liberation is around us. And finally the third bardo offered me this: "Bardo Thodol, and urged not to enter them, but to meditate upon the Clear Light instead; for it is still possible for him to achieve the third degree of liberation and avoid rebirth." I do not know why we are avoiding rebirth with such force? was it not neitzche who said “What if a demon were to creep after you one night, in your loneliest loneliness, and say, 'This life which you live must be lived by you once again and innumerable times more; and every pain and joy and thought and sigh must come again to you, all in the same sequence. The eternal hourglass will again and again be turned and you with it, dust of the dust!' Would you throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse that demon? Or would you answer, 'Never have I heard anything more divine'?” Would you not be at complete peace if we lived our lives as if we would have to relive it innumerable times, every up and down of your life relived again. Do not misconstrue my Nietzsche reference, i person have made mistakes. I have woes, and have gone through struggles i would want to face again. To Error is human, no one is perfect, nor in their darkest hour would they gladly relive the exact same existence innumerable times. 


(http://www.near-death.com/experiences/paranormal05.html Frederic Myers research is pretty interesting if you want to explore further. )

Sunday, June 10, 2012

our song

so we all grieve differently, is what they keep telling me. i relate everything to music, i always have. I could plan a flawless soundtrack to my entire life, and every event i encounter. well sometimes i hear songs, and i wish i could play (for the people listening to the song with me) the memories in my head. So they could understand the feelings i have for the song, and after hearing the song. I'm going to attempt to relay that in some manner, but i don't know if the attempt will be successful. The song i chose is Candlebox - "Far behind" not because it had great meaning. But because i posted it one drunken evening, on facebook. Stating that it was about myself and someone else. That it described us. Now when i went back and read that sober, i was confused. I know the song, i know every word. But i went back and listened, and read along with the lyrics. I then came to realize several things i wouldn't have, unless i was really paying attention to the lyrics. So my posting that, i apparently in my drunken state assumed everyone knew the lyrics and would understand exactly what i meant. But they wouldn't unless i explained. unless they knew the connection to each section, the memory, the binds. Unless they knew you or I, well enough to understand. So I'll explain:

Now maybe
I didn't mean to treat you bad
But I did it anyway
And now maybe
Some would say your life was sad
But you lived it anyway
And so maybe
Your friends they stand around they watch your crumble
As you falter to the ground
And then someday
Your friends they stand beside as you were flying
Oh you were flying oh so high


(We all make mistakes, we all hurt people whether we mean to or not. And you and i hurt each other, and we hurt others. - I know our lives are sad, but we did press on. we were stronger for pressing on, and we always had each other. - And i cant believe the people that watched us falter, and just stood there and watched, but when we were flying, they want to take part in our lives.)

But them someday people look at you for what they call their own
They watch you suffer
Yeah they hear you calling home
But then some day we could take our time
To brush the leaves aside so you can reach us
But you left me far behind

(some days in all our suffering, when no one else was there, we had each other, and you left me HERE ALONE!! how bloody well could you????)

Now maybe
I didn't mean to treat you oh so bad
But I did it anyway
Now maybe some would say you're left with what you had
But you couldn't share the pain

No, no, no
Couldn't share the pain, they watch you suffer

(now your gone, and I'm left where i was before. I know you think you shouldn't share your burden, but its on me now nonetheless, you may as well be here to share the load!)

Now maybe I could have made my own mistakes
But I live with what I've known
And then maybe we might share in something great
But won't you look at where we've grown
Won't you look at where we've gone
But then someday comes tomorrow holds a sense of what I feel for you in my mind
As you trip the final line
And that cold day when you lost control
Shame you left my life so soon you should have told me
But you left me far behind

(we both know we were dysfunctional people. and we learned some lessons on the journey to becoming those people. - we found some kind of light in having each other, i thought. i hoped. did we? - but look what happened anyway.. - and tomorrow, ill still remember everything. i still feel the same, whether you or anyone else thinks so. - And yeah that cold day when you lost control, it IS a shame you left my life so soon, why didn't you just tell me what was going on? Why did you let me yell at you? Why did you let me leave? You made me come with you, made me bring Roxy, and i didn't understand until after you did what you did. why weren't you more forceful in making me stay, as forceful as you were when you were making me come with you. - How could you let me feel this way? you of all people. YOU! and I'm mad, but I'm not mad, and I'm hurt, oh god I'm hurt. you just left me far behind. now i feel like nothing, and I'm left to wonder why, what what if, and if your okay.)

Now maybe I didn't mean to treat you oh so bad
But I did it anyway
Now maybe some would say you're left with what you had
But you couldn't share the pain
No, no, no

(if i just hadn't yelled, if i had stayed, wouldn't you be okay right now? - and yeah I'm left with what i had before you, but also this burden on top of the others. i lived my life thinking if you could do it, i could do it. that we were on par with one another. and now i don't know? I've got so much pain, and stress, and fucking demons crawling out of ashes, i don't know if I'm okay. i don't know if i can do it. and obviously if someone like you, someone stronger, and wiser than me couldn't do it, what hope do i have for a future. and i know what you'd say if you were here, but that doesn't stop the feelings in my heart, my mind, or my stomach. I'm physically sick from everything going on. i don't eat, i don't sleep, i just want to self medicate, and forget. but i never forget, its always right there. )

Oh no
Oh no no no no
Now maybe I didn't mean to treat you oh so bad
But I did it anyway
Now maybe some would say you're left with what you had
But you couldn't share the pain
I said times have changed your friends
They come and watch you crumble to the ground
They watch you suffer
Yeah, they hold you down
Hold you down
Now maybe brother, maybe love
I didn't mean to treat you bad
But you left me far behind
Left me far behind
Left me far
Behind

(did i hold you down, i should've stayed. i should've known. why didn't i know. why would you leave me with this guilt, this pain. I cant believe you. and yet, the one thing i want to say to you, is a joke. I want to make a funny comment about your line about living forever. That you would never die, and how you'd always be here. Forever, is what you promised me, no one gets that. They think when i say forever i mean that we would be married, or in a relationship forever. but no it meant we would live forever. in our dysfunction and insanity. We assumed we weren't mortal anymore, that we were already in hell. Or there was the time you said "maybe we're in a coma in the same hospital and we're meeting in our minds eye" a hallow laugh, as i typed that. a half smile. I remember you, always. I miss you always. But you still did this on purpose, and knew how i'd feel. You just went, and left me far behind.)

i stopped this in the middle of working on it. I decided it was stupid, to which i was told i probably needed to vent. so i finished, I'm not going to share the link at all, but ill post it. Oh well. It's just whats whirling around my BPD mind, in this time of mourning. -Jessi James

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Philosophy Of A Borderline by Jessi James is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at jamesborderline.blogspot.com