little creative goals

Things I want to keep in mind and do:
-finish tab for Old Times Cruelty by Antestor (I'm done!)
-try to get some of my emotions out in more drawings (maybe some self-portraits which I hate doing but perhaps should do) and original bits of recorded music on piano, guitar and voice.
-start learning how to use beatcraft already
-experiment with oil paint again in the spring

Maybe creative endeavours will keep me more sane than the stupid pills psychiatrists prescribe.

musicians who sound borderline

Technically anyone can sound borderline. It just comprises strong, extreme emotions driven by immature perceptions. But sometimes when I listen to songs and the lyrics, I can't help but to think to myself that wow, this person must be borderline too. For example, Alexi Laiho from Children of Bodom and Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails. I've already written about Alexi but I've recently rediscovered my copy of NIN's The Fragile. I forgot just how good it is. I always liked it but it's even better than I remembered it! Actually, this could be because I'm in a similar mindframe to what might have been Reznor's when he wrote the album. It's a great mix of metal anguish and electronic/dance/industrial catchiness. Anyways, I really relate to most of the lyrics of Somewhat Damaged. Could almost sing some of it to my mom if she was around. Here are the parts I could say in my own voice honestly.

So impressed with all you do
Tried so hard to be like you
Flew too high and burnt the wing
Lost my faith in everything
Made the choice to go away
Drink the fountain of decay
Tear a hole exquisite red
Fuck the rest and stab it dead

Broken bruised forgotten sore
Too fucked up to care anymore
Poisoned to my rotten core
Too fucked up to care anymore

How could i ever think it's funny how everything that
Swore it wouldn't change is different now just like you
Would always say we'll make it through then my head fell apart
And where were you?

Actually, another even closer song in terms of lyrics and how I'm doing is The Big Come Down:

There is a game i play
Try to make myself okay
Try so hard to make the pieces all fit
Smash it apart
Just for the fuck of it

Bye bye oooh
Got to get back to the bottom
Bye bye oooh
The big come down isn't that what you wanted?
Bye bye oooh
Find a place with the failed and forgotten
Bye bye oooh
Isn't that really what you wanted now?

There is no place i can go there is no way i can hide
It feels like it keeps coming from the inside

There is a hate that burns within
The most desperate place i have ever been
Try to get back to where i'm from
The closer i get the worse it becomes
The closer i get the worse it becomes

There is no place i can go there is no place i can hide
It feels like it keeps coming from the inside

And I can most certainly sing Underneath it All to myself about myself.
Underneath it All:

All I do
I can still feel you

Numb all through
I can still feel you
Hear your call
Underneath it all
Kill my brain
Yet you still remain
Crucified
After all I've died
After all I've tried
You are still inside

All I do
I can still feel you

You remain
I am stained

still around somehow

I take back what I said in my last October post. Still get crazy shitty panic attack-esque episodes. Just a lot harder to get them when stoned. And that's how I've been surviving. Praying everyday and smoking up starting at 5am sometimes. Which I have recently discovered is the best time ever to take walks. It's still dark enough to see stars and shooting stars sometimes show up and you can watch the sky change colours as the sun comes up. Also, I get to gawk at people's yards and houses and hardly anyone is awake to gawk back. I've definitely become more paranoid. I just don't want people judging me. I'm afraid people can recognize me as the blue-haired girl who goes ridiculously nuts in the ER. I'm afraid people can see my pain and how immature and disordered my mind is these days. I can see how foolish and self-destructive my actions can be, and yet I cannot stop them. I've been cursed with an intelligence that can see the consequences of my impulsivity but has no control over it. What the hell happened to me to end up like this?
Speaking of ERs, I am not voluntarily going to step foot in one ever again for any psychiatric/psychological reasons whatsoever. And I will say good-bye to my relatively useless psychiatrist who I see barely once a month if that. All those psychiatrists are too busy to really give you their proper attention. All they do is keep prescribing more and more pills as if that solves everything. Meanwhile those pills cost money and side effects render what little benefits I got from them worthless. Especially Seroquel. That crap should only be taken if you have serious psychotic episodes. It is NOT a good anti-depressant, zombifies you and causes crazy weight gain and diabetes. I couldn't fit into some of my more snug dresses (incl. a Betsy Johnson dress!) anymore because of it. Thankfully that's not a problem anymore since I've stopped taking them along with some amphetamine use which always helps for that sort of thing.
I'm just trying to get through the days, waiting to see when I will get into in-patient rehab. I wasn't sure I needed it but if they can show me better ways to deal with my emotions then I figure I should try. And yes, I have become rather addicted. I can't believe it. I always kind of looked down on people like that. It just seemed foolish to keep doing something you know is ruining your life. Now I've learned that things are just not that obvious or as simple as that. I really thought I could get away with the benefits of drug use, mainly elevated mood. But I didn't count on them screwing up your brain chemicals and even structure. And so although each day is a bit easier to get through, I've still added another layer of problems on top of my borderline issues. Great. Something incredibly shocking that has not helped any of this, is the fact that one of my good friends who had ADHD that I wrote about here a couple times has passed away just before his 31st birthday on November 2nd 2010. Possibly from taking too much Seroquel with alcohol actually (he was a severe alcoholic). Can't write about it too much here because it's just so shocking and tragic and saddening and painful but we just attended a funeral and memorial service that I felt paid tribute to him very well. I just feel so bad for his parents and older sister.

Dear friend, I sincerely pray that you are at peace now, no longer suffering and destined for God's presence. I just wish I didn't have to say bye so soon. Why did you have to go and do this to us your friends and family?! I told you I wouldn't know what to do now

Presumptuous

I dared too much
The audacity to claim spiritual maturity
I pleaded to perceive the truth
Open my eyes
to the nature of things
And with thundering purity
The rug has been pulled from under me
I sought to penetrate life's greatest mysteries
but discovered the biggest mystery has been myself all along
What the hell is going on?
The truth has brought nothing but nightmares
blurred and numb
The mirror reveals a monster and the more I examine
the more horrifying it gets
Existence may be the death of me,
for I don't know how much more my heart root can take
while appearances deceive everyone around me
A frustratingly alluring facade to the world
involuntarily created to survive
My own lies had become my truth
Was blind but now I see
So why am I still a wretch?