Into and from the depths

Tonight I went in search of material for a lazy post. I thought I might revisit the bad poetry post idea of a few months back.

Being disorganised and not totally unpacked (still) from the last move I wasn't sure where to start. So in my random searching I came across a total gold mine that otherwise would have been forgotten. The diary from three years ago that catalogs the total destruction of my mind.

Coming out, depression, panic attacks, anxiety. Love. Hate. It's all there, including bad poetry.

And of course here is a bunch of excerpts. A Cliff Notes version of my shitful life.

Let us go then, you and I
   into the depths of each other
   into being ourselves augmented by
     our own mirrored feelings
Let us be like closing our eyes to that
   first taste of delicious.

Holding you is like wrapping myself
   over you
    around you
     through you

Augmenting. Extending what we are.
     Will be.
     Have always been.

Let us go.

Let's put that down to a false idea of undying love. Totally wrapped up in a situation where I had no control over myself and no home of my own. I was lumped in with this girl and she became my world.

So I started to break down, due to so many factors I won't even try to list them. They don't need to be listed because the result is what matters. My head was fucked.

   Running blind. My hair is streaming out behind me. Like I want this hollow to trail away from me.
   Soul naked.
   Soul shrivelled and burnt and cringeing.

And a little further on, fighting myself. This still echoes through me and has become a major part of the way I think.

How can you define yourself?
I am a product of my surroundings.
I have no direction.

Now I'm up to the part where I snapped. Moved out after she pushed me away from my best friend, the man I'd left for her. Because I told her that he understood me better because he'd known me for longer, and that I found life easier if I got to talk to him.

I wanted to rip out this page and tell you something to make you feel better on it.

Not yet.

There is no better.

Be strong. please.

And then moving back in with her and the panic attacks have started. For weeks I have involuntary shudders, muscle tensions that pull me into a ball. Mini fits, in a way.

Snap. Just like that. Crying and balling up and why the hell do you go into a ball anyway? Pain in my arm from hitting it stopped me... Pain in my hand from digging my nails in.

Snap.

You're crying next to me Sarah and I've shut my heart out so much that I hate you for it.

I should write this but you break down when it's important.

Basically here we have Vic knowing that she's depressed and suicidal and all this girlfriend seems to do is start crying every time I shut out the world. When all I need is strength from her, I just seem to end up giving her mine.

Sadness. Deep and heart crushing. It's like a darkness that takes over me and I hate. Sometimes I hate so much that I want to inflict damage, pain. You're so insensitive in my eyes when I'm like this. You only care about yourself and how I relate to you.

You don't understand how much contact crushes me. I've told you so many times. Why don't you listen to me?

It's easy. Don't get right in my face. Don't touch me, especially my hands and my ears and my face.

Don't try to reason with me.

Why do you let it affect you so much? The last thing I need is for you to go to shit on me just because you can't understand what I know I've told told you I need.

The final entry, decorated with music notes and smiley faces:

BOUNCE BOUNCE BOUNCE BOUNCE

Give me a padded room....
Where the walls are all so friendly!

Anyway there you have it. I will return to inconsequential blogging in the very near future.