Going Through Waves of Depression, Exploring HumanismPlus aka Transhumanism, Atheistic Religious Raëlism, & the Pleiadians, AGAIN???

I am not sure how long or short this post will be, I am pretty knackered now and have barely done anything today, and should really be conserving what little energy I have left, unless I want to have another episode. I will probably regret writing this, however I just want to get it down before I forget and the content leaves my mind.

Lately with my illness I’ve found myself extremely depressed at times, which is pretty episodic in itself. One minute I’m fine emotionally, then all of a sudden I will have the urge to kill myself or self-harm, something I haven’t desired in years. The feeling is pretty overwhelming and strong, but fortunately during these episodes I am more or less physically paralyzed anyway and don’t have the strength to even raise a razor to my skin to cause any damage. By the time I can move again the depression has passed and I’m fine again. I wonder if the two are related actually.

Regardless, I have been resisting incredibly strongly, trying to hold onto life during these waves. Thinking how many people who love me would be upset, ect. I try to keep focusing on the positives. But I think honestly the depression has started since I realised I don’t really believe in a God. It’s like all meaning has suddenly drained from my life and with my illness I am stuck immobile and useless, feeling like a burden to my family who have to care for me and look after me.

But I am working through it. It’s weird how the belief in God really covers up or hides our own deep existential fears. And whilst during my hospital trip I made peace with the idea of absolute death for a few seconds, I’ve found myself wanting to hold onto the idea of living forever again, wanting to believe in some kind of afterlife and that we don’t just cease to exist once our life is over.

Anyway, earlier I did another “what’s your non-theistic religion” test or something along those lines, and it said I am secular humanist, and then transhumanist. I wondered what transhumanist was, and it was basically a subset of humanism focused on technological advancement and focusing on using technology to further the evolution of humans into these super human-like beings called either transhumans or post-humans, which would resemble angels or gods.

Then when I explored transhumanist religion, I came across the sect called Raëlism, which was very interesting to read about. It basically is an atheistic religion that asserts that the ‘gods’ which visited humanity early on in our evolution or even attributed towards it, or even seeded us directly, were actually advanced aliens, who are sort of mind-mapping our consciousness into their computers, and one day when we are advanced enough we will all be technologically ‘reanimated’ and live forever, or something like that.

It’s pretty interesting because science is pretty magical, and I have no doubt that in the future, by some means or process, the dead could be revived. So it’d be like I’d be sleeping for thousands of years until this technology evolves, and then I’d wake up in a new ‘advanced’ body, created by science, and never die. To be honest, that’s a pretty cool idea. And the idea of aliens anyway makes much more sense than the idea of deities.

And there is so much space in the universe that all these billions of billions of revived dead human beings could just colonize everywhere, creating a galactic super-race, where we don’t need to reproduce or program reproduction via sex out of our genes and reproduce solely in artificial labs or something like that… the possibilities are actually quite endless. Time travel would probably be a thing too and I could visit my past self and guide myself, just like the concept of a ‘higher self’… a lot of ‘spiritual’ things could suddenly be explained by the idea of transhumanism. It is giving me a lot to think about.

So all this actually kinda gives me hope again rather than feeling depressed that life is meaningless. It is probably an emotional prompting to fantasize all this crazy stuff, because I feel I am going all out there again into the world of woowoo. But let’s face it, science is my nature pretty woowoo until you understand it. Think Agora. Gravity is magic. But it’s also just the effect of objects moving in space, lol.

I think that’s all I have to write for now, and I should really rest up, but it really does give food for thought, about the future, how things could be, how the spiritual and the physical can meet in a non-superstitious way, and how immortality is still a possibility, even if it’s not invented in my generation. I am pretty sure the ‘aliens’ I was channeling were not really aliens and more like hallucinations, but I am pretty sure real aliens have to be out there somewhere. And also here is something to ponder: If all the memories of our ancestors are encoded in us at a genetic level, giving us visions of ‘past lives’… if aliens really did interbreed with us, then surely some of those hallucinations about being from other solar systems could have some truth too? Like maybe my great x 100,000 times grandma actually was a Pleiadian who seeded me through the Mayans on my Mexican side, lol. And maybe in the end, the Pleiades is where I will return to…

I am not denying evolution either, by passing the buck to another race who ‘created’ us. Rather just acknowledging that there could be more advanced races out there who have sped up our evolution, so to speak, whereas they before also evolved from random gases in their planetary atmosphere.



Out of Darkness and into the Light: Childhood Abuse, Twin Flames, and Spiritual and Kundalini Awakenings.

I have had the craziest past year. Well, I’ve had the craziest life to be perfectly honest, but I felt compelled to share the experiences I’ve had in the past year. The last few months especially. Not many people will probably understand what I’m about to write, and this includes closest friends and family (if family ever come across this). But I felt like I needed to raise a bit of awareness, not only for them as to how much I’ve changed as a person, but also to give anyone who read this hope that life is not as bleak as it all seems. Miracles can happen, if you want it bad enough. Seek and ye shall find.

I shall start at the beginning. This time last year I was living in the midst of emotional, psychological, mental, spiritual, and even physical abuse. I had been living in it for the last sixteen years, since the day my mother married my step-dad. Ever since that fateful day, the person who I was gradually deteriorated until I felt like there was almost nothing left. I grew up depressed, neurotic, suicidal. I had no idea who I was, all I knew is that this man in my life that I was expected to call ‘daddy’ all of a sudden was someone I did not want to be around at all. I didn’t perfectly understand why until last year, when his abusive nature came to light, finally, after a long and hard subconscious search for the truth.

We managed to get him to move out, but then suddenly I found my world turned upside down. I was lost. After the initial feel good exhilaration that came with the freedom I had always sought for, I spiralled head first back into the darkness. Death became my best friend. Thoughts of suicide gradually turned into thoughts of murder. Over the period of a few months, I had started to become the person I hated the most. I had no other sense of identity. I vehemently rejected my perceived weaknesses and replaced them for what I believed would make me ‘better’. I rejected love, light, happiness, health, and eventually even fun, for hate, darkness, and evil. ‘Fun’ eventually became an obsessiveness with being in control. In control of myself, other people, and life in general. During that state I believe I was perfectly capable of murder. I became my worse enemy, because it was the thing I related to ‘being strong’. If you don’t want to be put down again then be the one to put others down first. It was simple.

By the time my 20th birthday came about, what was left of ‘me’, the genuine, real me, was completely dead and gone. I had chipped away at myself in the name of self protection, until there was nothing left but a shell clinging on desperately for meaning. Leading up to this time and also for a few months before my step-dad moved out, I was somewhat romantically involved with someone online, a soulmate, who towards the end opened the doors towards a glimpse of my real self, of true divine love. I didn’t know what was happening at the time though, and things spiralled down from there as I engaged in a battle with myself through said soulmate. We cut contact and I swore never to love again from that moment on. I only got worse from there, until my birthday came and went, and I met someone new online.

Suddenly everything I new to be true was turned upside down once again. My fortresses of hate were barraged through with that same divine love I had experienced that one time before. And I was powerless to stop it. Wave after wave after wave of divine love, channelled through this one person. It was incredible, and definitely not human. During this time I accidentally came across the term ‘twin flames’, and since then I have adopted that term for it, as there was nothing else that could really describe it, despite my slight disagreements with the theory itself. Twin flames are basically considered two halves of one soul, and when they reunite they act as a catalyst towards spiritual growth. As lovely as this all sounds, it really, really wasn’t. It was absolutely terrifying. I found out I could actually love! Who knew that?! I had a taste of God.

Even more terrifying, however, was when the high faded. Human ego consciousness returned. Problems arose. And I was dragged head first back into the deepest pits of my own personal hell at the speed of light, also completely against my own will. Initially my consciousness had been temporarily expanded, but it basically only served to give me strength to face and release all the years of trauma that were trapped within me. And I held on through the skin of my teeth. I have to say at this point it was actually a whole lot worse than the actual abuse I went through previously. I was tested to my utmost limits. It wasn’t pretty. It affected every part of me, even my physical body. Eventually, after hitting absolute rock bottom, after meeting my demons head on for the first time ever, after staring into my deepest, darkest fears, after an entire week of crying and throwing up due to emotions alone(!) I decided that I didn’t want to be the person I used to be ever again. I wanted to love myself. I was tired of living a lie, a lie I didn’t even know I’d been living. You could almost consider this a New Years resolution that I came up with during the Christmas period. Lovely time for having such a traumatic experience.

I decided to take some time out at the beginning of the new year, and I tried my hand at meditating. I felt drawn to the spiritual again, after a year of trying to block it out of awareness completely. Within a week of starting I had two awakening experiences and had to stop for fear of psychosis. The first experience was my full spiritual awakening. It came completely at random. I hadn’t planned for it and I knew nothing about such experiences at the time. I just wanted to practice a bit of mindfulness. I put on some random meditation music I found on YouTube and then I accidentally met God, I kid not. This is something that I can’t really explain properly. All I can say, is that for roughly about half an hour, I not only felt love, but I became identified with love. I WAS love. And love was everything. And everything was God. And it was as if I was looking down on myself, as myself, but as God, and I saw my step-dad in me, and all his darkness, and all my darkness, and then I just loved it, and I loved him, and I loved myself, and I felt myself loved, by myself. And I forgave him, and I forgave myself, and that day I let go of everything. I became a different person.

It changed me so profoundly, that ‘I’ am not me any more. I am nothing. And yet I am everything. All the time I was searching for identity, I was merely closing myself off more. The only way to truly find identity is to let go. Identify with nothing. Just be. Let energy flow through me rather than close it off. Let myself feel.. For the first time I found I wanted to feel. For the first time I felt truly alive. For the first time I loved myself naturally, without effort. Hate for myself and hate for others all but completely disappeared. And for the first time ever I felt like I was more on the side of light than on the side of dark. Except for the fact that light and dark are completely irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. What I felt was transparent. What I felt was complete, within myself. And I found that I could be content even through pain, because the source of suffering had been transmuted into Light, and continues to be so.

Over the coming weeks I noticed that my alcohol addiction had completely disappeared. There was no explanation for it. When I did drink, a hazy, numb, heaviness settled over me. The clarity I seemed to have permanently gained disappeared and it made me feel a sort of groggy, grossness. There was suddenly no longer anything pleasant about drinking. I noticed more and more that I would feel like this when eating certain unhealthy foods, and when I dropped back into depressive episodes, and even when listening to certain rock and heavy metal music that I used to love. I honestly don’t know how I lived like that for so long. It was so incredibly unhealthy, and yet I could never feel it. I just drank myself further and further away into oblivion. Killed myself over and over again. Willingly let myself be chained to a drill that had no other purpose but to dig oneself further and further underground.

The second experience I had whilst meditating that week was a full kundalini awakening. I also didn’t know anything about it until after it happened. This is the one that has made me cautious of meditating again for fear of psychosis. In comparison to others my awakening was fairly simple, probably because I had already released so many energetic blockages previously. But simple didn’t make it any less terrifying. After ten minutes of feeling like I was floating, I felt an energy at the base of my spine. Or to put it more simply – I felt turned on, and for some reason I felt prompted to concentrate on that feeling, until it exploded and shot up my spine all the way up to my head, leaving me nothing but a writhing mess for roughly about a minute. 

I don’t know what being electrocuted feels like, but I could definitely compare it to that. It was absolutely terrifying. And yet simultaneously it felt absolutely amazing. Meditating again a few times after that brought up wave after wave of more controllable energy, but I still couldn’t control it enough. Eventually waves of energy started shooting through me whilst I wasn’t even meditating, and I had to stop completely after reading the warnings online. It’s another process of refining the emotional, mental, and spiritual bodies, and if done too much at one time can cause a breakdown, and even death. So now I only meditate far and few between.

By this point the online relationship I was having that instigated all these changes in me had changed so much due to my complete shift in awareness that I felt like being together would no longer serve either of us beneficially any more. It was time to move on. Not only that, but the intensity of it all still hadn’t let up, and I felt like the whole thing overall was so traumatic that I just needed to get away and have time to stabilise. I know now that my spiritual progress will be a lot slower than it was before, but at this point in time that’s the best thing for me. I need to go it alone, and work through my remaining issues, before becoming self-actualized and doing what I was put here on this earth to do. Besides growing through love that is 🙂 

I don’t know whether I will ever talk to supposed twin flame again. I don’t plan to. But they do say that they do eventually reunite, whether in this life or the next [since I wrote this post we have reunited and become friends]. All I know is that for someone to cause a change as great in me as this, they truly have to be important at a soul level, and if we ever do reunite, then it will be when the time’s right. And to anyone who saw this entire drama unfold from the outside, as abusive as it always seemed, abusive it never was. It was just me meeting my real, true self, and learning to love and accept it. And it has truly and completely changed me for the better.

And now, I shall live the rest of my life being the best me there ever was and ever will be. I shall love and laugh and cry and rage, and ultimately, be alive! Life has never felt so bright.

I’m no longer that depressed homicidal person in love with darkness, pain, and death. I’m transformed. Somehow. It’s truly a miracle. If there is a God out there then he is looking after me, I can say that for the first time in my life with conviction.


I spend my days looking through pages trying to find a way to get away from me…

I know I’m going through psychological trauma right now, but I can’t even bring myself to admit the fact. I just ignore it hoping it’ll go away, just like I ignore everything else. Meanwhile I watch my life wash away down the drain and try not to give a damn.

Every time mum brings up stuff that happened in the past – I just brush it off or walk away. I’m incapable of talking about anything. Sometimes I get flashbacks and I have to close my eyes and try to regain my mental bearing by shoving the memory back into the mental cupboard. I frequently dream about situations relating to the trauma, and every morning I wake up automatically trying to forget about it. 

In fact I barely sleep anymore. I’m afraid of sleeping too much, because past experience has taught me that the less I sleep the less I’ll remember my dreams. This is due to sleep repartitioning: REM (the stage of sleep responsible for dreaming) is the most important part of sleep, and so the less you sleep, the more your body repartitions it to the beginning of your sleep, meaning you wake after deep dreamless sleep unable to remember anything. Not only that but I hate waking up past a certain time, because it makes me feel vulnerable due to past experiences. 
I’ve also become completely disconnected from my emotions. The only thing I can truly feel is anger. It consumes me and feels so good, because I’m incapable of connecting to anything else. Not even reading depressing fanfiction or fangirling over hot fictional characters keeps me emotionally connected anymore. I watch gruesome things instead and fantasize about killing people in a myriad of different ways. Just something, ANYTHING, to make me feel alive. It should be disturbing but it’s not. I’m even detached from that.
Part of my brain worries about some of my behaviors, yet the larger part can’t be asked to give a fuck. I’m pretty much an alcoholic now. I feel like all I ever do these days is drink alcohol, just to escape from my thoughts, from my head, to not care about anything. Self-harm has also come into play a whole lot more lately. I have so many scars I’ve lost track of them all. My arms, my hips, my thighs. I’ve given up feeling bad about it, because the pain makes me feel alive, it makes me feel real, and the resulting calm afterwards – it’s almost like being on marijuana. 
I’m an addict. And I’m so glad I have no way in which to buy drugs, because that would surely be the end of me. I have something like ten co-morbid personality disorders, and I really don’t know who the fuck I am. I’m just drifting endlessly..
I’m so depressed and yet I’m even detached from that. I’ve lost my passion for everything, including music. I just can’t feel anything anymore. When I was experiencing the trauma I couldn’t stop crying, and yet ever since I’ve been out of it, I’ve had eyes as dry as ice. Nothing can make me cry anymore. Things that should make me sad just have no affect, and instead I do the only other thing I’m capable of – I just laugh the sadness off in a disturbing, hysterical, and ironic way. 
I feel like I’m becoming a sadistic fuck. I just want to feel something. I just want to connect. No one understands what I’m going through. Why would they? They haven’t experienced what I have, plus I barely talk about it, because I can’t. And why would they care anyway? To them I’m just over-dramatizing everything, attention seeking, being a weird freak. 
Mum knows some of what I’m going through, even though I never let her talk about it. We have no money for help or anything, and I just feel so alone, having to deal with all this on my own. It’s so exhausting. I keep trying to push it all away, delay the inevitable mental breakdown, but the more time goes on, the more I feel myself cracking, breaking at the seams. I’m water steadily boiling to overflow point. And god knows what will happen when the inevitable explosion happens.

Hollow Pane of Glass

Under a sky, fears of the weary call out to me like death on a summer day,

I can’t take another rejection.

A pinprick of hope, bludgeoned away by shame, and still don’t you listen, I need you, I need you!
Walk away, leave me behind abandoned and empty for the last time.
I can’t hear my screams anymore
They’re drowning in the ocean
Lies and pain and fear
Tear me apart, drag me asunder
Don’t hurt me again you dare
I swear it’s the last time
I’m falling apart, I’m broken,
I’m a hollow pane of glass.
Crimson tears of sorrow escape from these veins dragging with them poison,
I can’t face another day,
The rotten stink of doubt feeds off my strength, solitude not enough to save me, I’m fading, I’m wasting!
Close the door on life, surrender to the darkness, leave me to die.
I can’t hear my screams anymore
They’re drowning in the ocean
Lies and pain and fear
Tear me apart, drag me asunder
Don’t hurt me again you dare
I swear it’s the last time
I’m falling apart, I’m broken,
I’m a hollow pane of glass.
It’s too late to lend me your hand now
I’m far too gone,
Thank you for the horrors you’ve caused, my nightmare’s you haunt,
Thank you for all that you’ve done
I can never forgive you and~
I can’t hear my screams anymore
They’re drowning in the ocean
Lies and pain and fear
Tear me apart, drag me asunder
Don’t hurt me again you dare
I swear it’s the last time
I’m falling apart, I’m broken,
I’m a hollow pane of glass.
I’m a hollow pane of glass, you can’t save me this time.

Love as a Concept

This is my first attempt in a long while at writing a deep post. I used to have a blog a couple of years ago where I would post extremely deep things on, but I haven’t done that in ages because although I would get plenty of compliments of a mind boggling nature, as a rule of thumb people didn’t care. I’ve been encouraged to try again though, and seeing as currently I have nothing better to do, I may as well give it a shot. A big apologies if it’s not that amazing though, it has been a long while.

Love as a Concept: 

I’ve been thinking a lot about love recently. I’m not sure why exactly, maybe because I’m so devoid of it. Love seems to me a complex thing. I think love is a more complex than it should be. In theory the idea is simple, yet in reality true love is twisted beyond the point of recognition. I don’t trust anyone for this exact reason. I will always have a doubt niggling at the back of my head because I’ve noticed that people will even unconsciously manipulate people under the false pretense of love. 

I’ve always felt like I’m never loved, by anyone, friends and family alike. Sure, I know that they respect me, but that’s as far as it goes, sometimes not even that. I think the idea of being loved is what compels me through life; some of the biggest fuck ups I’ve made have been searching for some apparently non-existential deep connection of love. Maybe this is an unhealthy romanticism and what I feel will vastly improve when I stop thinking about myself and start actually thinking about others. 

I’ve often heard it said that, “love isn’t a feeling, it’s a choice,” which I believe is entirely true, but why then is it that when we make the choice to love someone completely unselfishly you feel worse than if you decided to just let fate decide for you? People take advantage, that’s why, they drain you dry. Love needs to be replenished, and if you’re constantly giving love yet never feeling like you’re receiving then you will eventually end up depressed, like a zombie, devoid of what’s supposed to be the most basic substance in life, and ready to commit suicide.

That’s why now I’m generally very select to who I show love to because deep down I’m actually an incredibly sensitive person, hell I even hide it from myself. When I do show it I’d like to think that it’s pure and 100% unselfish, but this has to obviously be untrue. There are many presumptions that affect us as people on a subconscious level, presumptions that incline us to make decisions that we’re not entirely aware of, decisions that only a select few of external persons can understand.
Does love really exist though? If it were a substance then surely it would be tangible? Ideas and concepts are not tangible, just like hypothesis’ and theories. So then, is love merely an illusion of hope for the weak-minded? Or maybe a chemical by-product for the theory of evolution? Or a way God uses to keep us in line, if even just slightly? I find that the scripture “love thy neighbour as thyself and all the rest shall come to pass,” is useful only as a moral compass, not necessarily useful for emotional well-being.
Personally I’ve given up on trying to find love, or even it’s meaning. I find that I can recharge better when I let other people do the loving yet making sure that I stay emotionally distant from them in order to not expend any of my own reserves. Maybe this sounds selfish but it gets me by quite nicely. I find myself quite content. There are times though when I do get an overwhelming urge to just pour my heart put to someone, just anyone, and love them till they bleed, but if I did that then I’d be an emotional wreck because I’d end up using it all and not getting any back.  

I hate the idea that I’ve fallen into the trap of being like everyone else and taking this concept of love instead of giving it, but it’s self preservation above self sacrifice at the end of the day. Maybe one day the right person will come along, maybe not, and maybe love is just one big fantasy. Either way, I’ve accepted that love may not the big answer everyone is looking for, and until then I’ll be alone, and happy for it more so than if I were a free giver of love and personally depleting myself of all that’s good and true.

Emotional Compromise

So, I thought I’d write a bit about me as a person. Not that anyone would probably find it interesting anyway, but seeing as I have all these extra hours to kill from trying out this polyphasic sleeping thing, I might as well spend the next hour or so wasting a quarter hour of your life. Seems fair.

Where to start? I’d say emotions take up the substantial part of my life. I suffer from Major Depressive Disorder. I always have done and probably always will do. I am just going to say now that the latter wasn’t supposed to come across as negative statement, because now I feel like I’ve finally got the place where I can control the depression, but a disorder like that doesn’t just go away. Not ever.
To top the depression, I’ve always had trouble fitting in with people, with society. The idea of being accepted was a driving force in me for many years, and I never was accepted, no matter what I did or how hard I tried. I am just one of those different, complex, and often highly misunderstood people. Today I accept this, but it wasn’t always so. I used to do stupid things to try and fit in. I had no concept of social norms, and to this day I still barely do. The depression in conjunction with the rejection I felt I was unfairly receiving was too much for me to handle.  

I hated myself. I thought there was something wrong with me. I thought that I was a plague that needed to be exterminated. No one cared and neither did I, or well, that’s what I believed. Truth was, I did care. I cared so much that it was breaking me in half. People thought I was trying to be all superior, that I believed I was better than everyone else, that’s apparently the way I came across. The thought that I couldn’t even be myself around anyone drove me to insanity, because the truth was, I didn’t actually know who I was.  

I went suicidal. Twenty-ten was probably the most depressing year of my life. What I went through no one should have to experience. Unfortunately I’m not alone and many others do go through it. I was an absolute emotional wreckage. I couldn’t stand the sight of my own family because I thought they’d betrayed me, I couldn’t trust anyone enough to have friends, and I couldn’t be left alone in my own company for any extended period of time. Everything was painful. I couldn’t remember even one time in my life where I’d felt truly happy.  

Finally I hit rock bottom in the fall of that year. I had suicidal tendencies for about a month. I remember getting as far as considering planning my own death. I’m pretty sure I would’ve carried it out too if it wasn’t for a miracle. Someone I knew from college just happened to message me during that awful phase, despite the fact we barely knew each other. The friends I did have at the time were no help, in fact I’d ditched them all. I was completely and totally alone. This guy, however, saved me. To this day I am convinced he was a miracle from God. I don’t quite remember what he said or how he did it, but he calmed me down, managed to chase away the suicidal tendencies. 

I was okay for a while after that, for about six months roughly, well, if you could call it okay. Instead of being emotionally broken, I became emotionally numb. Life was a big blur of nothing. I ditched the friend who was probably responsible for saving my life, and I closed down all my social networking sites. I didn’t talk to or see anyone for that whole period of time because I was being home-schooled. I was living in some sort of post-traumatic suicidal haze. Eventually I got pulled into going to church with my family, and that’s when everything began to change. 

I began to be connected again with people from the outside world. I decided to try and start a new leaf, with these new people who didn’t know me, who couldn’t judge me, who had no history of my past. The past caught up with me though. I didn’t want to hide my complex nature in front of everyone. I wanted people to understand. So I started up a blog and confessed everything. Shame to say that the wrong type of person stumbled across it and told my parents. To put it briefly, they were outraged. They didn’t realize what I’d been going through, I’d been hiding it so well. They couldn’t understand. They wanted me out the house.  

Things continued to spiral down. The suicidal tendencies came back. I couldn’t cope and I was advised to write my parents a letter, to explain and to apologize. I decided to do just that. The thing is, the thing that so far I’ve failed to mention is the fact that I had no idea who my real dad was. I was told he rejected me when I was a baby, thus fear of rejection was apparently a subconsciously inbuilt behavior. I suggested to my parents for us to find him, so that I could have a chance to know who I really am. They agreed.  

I flew six thousand miles to see my biological dad. He was overwhelmed with emotion on sight of me, apparently rejection not the reason I was abandoned. Things were sorted out, or so I thought. Both dads were there with me, and lo and behold of all things I met a guy who ended up somewhat becoming my boyfriend. I ended up pushing both of my dads away in the process. I was the one who rejected both of them. After a few weeks it turns out that mr boyfriend was not just using me, but also two timing me. I had ruined everything, for acceptance by a boy. I’d never had a boyfriend before. I was so susceptible. I had ruined everything. I flew back to England. That was six months ago. 

I was so distraught at my stupidity, not just those couple of months, but my whole life too, that I fell back into depression. I started self harming. I started cutting, I started extracting the opiates in painkillers to use as drugs, I started drinking till I was sick. I became a wreck. I realized I couldn’t trust myself. I realized how I am my own worst enemy.  

I was depressed, but one day something inside of me had clicked. I do relate this to meeting my biological dad. I completely did a three-sixty. I decided that I was going to ignore my emotions. It meant that I wouldn’t have to care about anything for the first time in my life, including people. I found it extremely difficult to change a lifetime worth of thought processes, but I succeeded. I no longer feel things, and I’ve learned how to instantaneously switch myself off from the emotional haunting when I become tempted. I still have no friends, no life, but I know who I am, and for the first time in my life I’m content, and to me that’s all that matters.  

I still deeply distrust people, but it’s almost a dismissive type of action these days, I don’t care anyone whether I have friends or not, usually preferring my own company. I stick to the shadows now because I no longer have that driving urge to be accepted. I thrive in being different. No one could ever convince me otherwise.  

I am unique and I am special. I still get depressive episodes, however. Like I said in the beginning, a disorder doesn’t ever go away. It’s always there in the background of my head space, like static, but I’ve learned to drown it out, for the most part.  

I hope this can be used as an inspiration for change. Anyone who’s going through any problems can feel free to contact me. I know what it’s like to be misunderstood. I still mostly am misunderstood, but it doesn’t bother me anymore. I feel free, and I hope I can help others feel free too. I know how addicting depression is. It’s a drug. It’s an entire life. It’s even better than being happy, because if you’ve never been happy then it’s a hundred times better than feeling nothing. Depression becomes happiness, and only the strong ones could possibly ever know that.