lost_ether

to seek therapy.

I'm not ready to go to my GP. I'm not having him stick all my crap on my permanent medical history. I've made contact with a few local psychotherapists and counsellors. We'll see how that works out.

Fuck you. You whore. You know exactly who you are, so let's be plenty clear on my point - why the he'll do you think I SHOULD care? I am fucking planning out my suicide, b ug you'd have as much chance of noticing my pain as you would learning to fly through space. Do I have the face of someone that actually cares whether or not there's a goddamned opinion inside that airhead of yours?

I don't know whether to scream or cry, but I certainly wish you'd crawl back where the world spat you up from.

I'm at the end of my tether. I don't know WHAT to do with you...

- I feel so alone.
- Everyday feels the same.
- Nobody knows who I am.
- My life is empty.
- The littlest things weigh me down.
- I panic from stress.
- I am numb.
- I am in pain.
- I hate everything...
- Everything hates me.
- I don't want a place in the world.
- It hurts to live.
- I've forgotten what being happy was like.
- I'll never have the life I want, the reality inside my head.
- I cry on the inside, so nobody sees the tears.
- I can only connect with people through a virtual interface. Reality is impossible.
- There isn't one single person in my life I can turn to.

C writes:( A Strange Dream )

We hope it means something. Generally, Alex and I have little experience with children and tend to stay away from them... we have no idea what we're supposed to do or say or how we should act with them. It would be nice to find out some more about the Little Girl.

We can only hope.

It feels like I'm drunk or high or whatever. It happens sometimes, and I have no reason for it. Everything just goes so wonderfully numb, and I feel like I'm floating outside of reality. It's dreamy and perfect and, even though parts of me are still tearing themselves apart with all the agony they can find, there's a little piece of me that's become separate and light and carefree... just for a bit, perhaps.

We're listening to Florence and the Machine. We've developed a love of the new album. Spotify is a beautiful thing...

( We've decided to talk a little bit about M here. It's a bit of a break-through for us, because we never discuss Him )

We're a little shocked we've shared this. A truly dark part of ourselves. We'd like to hold onto this airy, dreamy feeling a while longer, and not face the reality...

Alex writes:

( Some Inane Drabble ) :)

C: I thought I should put a final note, from me, after Alex has had his way with his words. It was the smoking thing that got my attention. It's kind of weird... when he's in the Driving Seat, he always craves cigarettes. I've never understood it. I don't like smoking, being around smokers, the general idea of inhaling that kind of toxin... the only times this body has ever smoked was when Alex was in control. It's a really weird personality trait of his that sometimes wakes me up to realise what's going on. I go into a bit of an auto-pilot mode when Alex is Driving. I play Passenger, but not like he does. Alex is always watching, observing, talking to me when I'm Driving, but when he takes control I don't always pay complete attention. I really wish he'd quit wanting to smoke... we still have a pack hidden in the draw, with the lighter. I hate feeling his cravings...

I want to rant some more about my life. Like I don't do that every other time I open my mouth.

( Written by Alex )

I'm done now.

Alex's rant:

( Read More )

Much love and hugs, my dearest - love C.

A slightly random schpeel about a conversation Alex and I were having:

( Read More )

Thank you for reading!

Either it's a combination of hayfever fogging up my brain or just the idea that I should be at work... working, but am not. I'm legitimately unable to get to work, which is fine. I don't feel guilty... just weird. At least when I'm at work I'm doing something, I'm in my place and doing something that keeps the cogs of the industry moving.

Being home, alone, without that much entertainment when I otherwise would be working just leaves me feeling empty and redundant. Other people are covering my jobs and tasks, getting on with them fine and having no issues. I don't wish bad fortune upon them, but it leaves me feeling completely useless. Somebody else can just pick up my tasks and role with them - they don't even need me there.

How pointless.

No one needs me - and as much as I enjoy it just being me and A (let's not even think about M right now), we just feeling put out - and I realise it's more me than A - and pointless.

*big, selfish sigh*.

It's a pretty azure blue with a pinkish border on the horizon. It's nice like this. When it's 4 in the morning and all you can hear is noisy birds and distant traffic. 4am is calm. It's me time. Also His time. It's a nice time.

We didn't feel so good earlier. Things were said. We drabble and we complain because some things need to come off the chest and onto the page.

But 4am, with the morning chill coming through the window and the sky all calm and pretty, it makes things seem safe and normal and OK.

All I need now is to feel tired. We can't have everything.