Woah, people, this is some intense shit going on here.. I kinda understand and then I don't. Having been clouded by suicidal thoughts just once, and purely because I couldn't hold all that escalating pain within physical limits of myself, it was either kill someone, or do it to yourself. Since I'm so independent and self-contained by nature I thought I better deal with it on my own. In the end just cut up myself nicely with razorblades n shit -- amazingly it worked though, didn't even need to go further.
But depression, that's a whole different thing. Going the self-destructive path. Why would you want to take it away from yourself? Just stop forcing yourself where the others might want you to see, be it your partner, the parents, or the society as a whole.. YOU SHALL NOT FEEL BAD ABOUT YOURSELF BECAUSE OF THEM. You don't owe nothing to your parents but what you have in yourself for them. That was their decision to bring you to this world, and if you feel the suicide is liberation then that choice is yours only. But why would you. Just ease the pressure a little here.. What's wrong with fuckups? Fucked up people happen to be more beautiful, interesting, deep and inspirational than the successful and satisfied ones. They bring balance and sincerity to this world. It's a tough place to be, and although drugs might come in as a temporary escape, the reality is to be faced better sooner than later, and doesn't matter high or not. YOU CAN DO IT. Let your fuckedupness be your teacher. It's like running with stone boots, I know, I know.. But it will only make you stronger in a long run -- as long as you don't kill yourself, that is.
All easier said than done.
What about me though? I'm more or less always depressed, but since I moved to this restless bitch called London I've also became so dry and emotionless I'm having hard time accepting my own attitudes. That's what I really miss, the depth of every breath. Not all those daily scratches but a deep cut to the bone so I can feel the life, even if it's dripping away. But I'm happy unhappy, more or less. Wouldn't trade my darkside for anything in the world, that's apparently where I belong. Don't need to emphasize it either, just let it be.. Anyway, I guess I must be doing pretty well, 2012 marks my 10th anniversary since I got hooked on amphetamine, 8 of them taking the intravenous route. I like doing long, often solitary sessions, on average lasting 48-72h with no sleep and food, and that at least once per week although I have started to skip some recently for the first time since years. Lots of learning, planning and (formerly) artistic activities during these sleepless times. And urban exploration, of course, that and proper rave parties is the closest thing to church I'll ever get. And you know, during these 10 years, as fucked up as they were, most of the shit I've dealt with by not dealing with the symptoms, just pushing myself forward to new mental frontiers, towards the uncharted. I have an terrific drive, that's for sure, although deep down inside I know the direction I've taken is that of self-destruction. But then again, couldn't that be said of most of the people if dig just deep enough? They're simply being fooled or have chosen to fool themselves, consciously or sub. Good for them! I prefer to go down with some dignity you know, the truth + reality über alles
Anyway, I always liked most of the side effects and I learnt to enjoy the comedowns, for example I absolutely love paranoia and miss it so much, I get overexcited by even catching a glimpse of it, thus, consequently, losing it. I have had lots of nasty health issues, I was pretty sure I'm gonna die plenty of times, and I was scared shitless of knowing I can not quit, I can not proceed with the life without my addictive ally. But although I might have been dependent on the drug, thankfully I have always been independent from anyone else. So what others thought a life should be wasn't important to me at all, and in the end by sticking with my chemical ritual I've learnt to deal with my mental bullshit, and perhaps even more importantly I have learnt to take a good care of myself, something I doubt I would have done otherwise. And so the scales had been tipped a few years ago, and from then I only ever felt stronger and having more potential than ever before. But even before then I was not ashamed to pull out my works publicly if I felt like to -- well, that's who I am. A fucking junkie.
As I'm writing this, it's my 76th hour and my skin had dried out so bad it's coming off my face in sheets -- muahah let's call it an exfoliation deluxe. Meh, that's fine, tomorrow's gotta be enough to fix myself up, so when I go to uni on Wednesday nobody will have a clue what I had been playing with these last few days. I wonder for how long though, the no clue part
OK, now I'm talking about myself too much but just so you see it's all about perspective, and I have always encouraged people reaching for their own from deep within. A few of my friends have ended up badly, all kind of nasty suicides. One of them guys, a very talented young artist, was particularly close to me, and I might find a thousand + one reason why I'm at guilt of what happened (and that was messy, I'm telling you).. Things certainly could have had gone down a different path, at least on that ocassion, if only I had acted differently back then. But there's no guilt, and no remorse, the choice wasn't mine to make. But I'm terribly terribly sad. Sad sad sad. So sad. So sad.
dude, I'm sorry for the loss of your friend.. I know that feeling all 2 well myself..I lost a good friend of mine about a year ago. Its sad stuff, but you're right, their decision..