I have an incredible desire for hugs.
I just want to be held and never let go.
I hurt, and Im despairing. Im still getting through work, but I feel Im being attacked from every angle, mainly
the angle at which Dad resides at. He seems to be getting upset at me so easily, and I dont think he realises how pathetically weak and vulnerable I am right now.
I just look at my next 6 weeks, and freak, cry, and cut a little.
I know I can get through them, but Im so scared.
I just want someone to hold me whenever things get like this, to support me when I can not support myself, so I can finish what I started 12 and a half years ago, on my quest for success and happiness.
But it seems Ive pushed those who I care away from me.
Dad doesnt understand, I dont think he ever will, and hence I try not to let him in on much.
I doubt he'd realise any bad signs, sometimes I question if he really cares as much about me as he says he does.
I know that bad, cos he does, he just doesnt understand how to help. This is all so new to him, but should I really ask him to change, to be more accomodating for me? Am I worth that effort, that pain?
I just cant shake this, Im still afraid of every shadow, and am at a loss for what to do, what I want to do.
I did consider calling a mate, or even a call service and chatting to someone. But often I talk in a way that can induce concern, and attention, and I am unsure if that is what I desire, to be helped, or to be left to my own devices. I have enough fresh memories of pain to frighten many people. I no longer notice much, I didnt realise how much I am used to it till I watched underbelly last night. Someone got razored badly across the face, and I didnt think it was that bad, just 3 or 4 long cuts across the face. It didnt look that bad, but dad was totally horified by it. Perhaps by being less horified by it, it may help later, if and when I become a doctor. So people dont feel ugly. I still think everyones beautiful, except for me.
Atm, Im starving myself a little. Unsure why, I just dont like my appearance anymore.
My artwork is threatening to come down to my arms again, it sits on my shoulders and legs for teh time being.
I went for teh scratching last night instead of the blade, though the blade still follows everywhere.
I dont know why I dont just stop, even when Im ok, it seems to appear in my hands, almost like a compulsion.
So far the best Iv done in 2 weeks is to make 60 hours I think.
Its getting less, cos Im just not driven enough, but feelings are sometimes bad.
Had strong compulsion a week a bit ago to do something that would not achieve the means to the end that I desire, and may have got me too friendly with the very professionals I seek to be one of. I really need to remove objects that are of use to me when Im feeling impulsive, or at least make sure that they wont put me in positions Id sooner not be in.
Mind you, having said that I suspect that had such an impulse overtook all reason, I suspect nothing of serious negative consequence would have overtaken me as long as my mouth was kept closed.
After research into it, even with the impulsions, I knew that the chances of anything actually eventuating without the interference of liquor was miniscule, let along success. Mind you, we all have individual susceptibilities I guess.
All I know, is perhaps silence is key, perhaps it isnt.
Is it acceptable to transfer some of ones pain, concern, anxiety etc upon others to perhaps achieve some temperorary relief? If so, then perhaps I should stop my masked silence and at least accept some support from one or two people who I know can at least support if not help me?
With this getting hotter and it probably doing so as the looming exams approach, perhaps it is better to enlist the help of friends, who do not have exams, or at least not a lot to concern over as support. Then maybe when the day wears on, and I become less resistant to outside forces, I can be supported from the demons that at times come with incredible strength, and will.
After all, is not a war fought with many others who are strong against a foe who is equally determined?
Well, here is someone who is trying to fight a war against a strong foe, and I fight it alone, and weaken, when allies may still lie ready to help.
But then again, this is a war with myself. Though the stakes are similar.
In war, victory is survival, defeat is usually death. The stakes are virtually the same.
I think I need to space out from my Dad though, to protect him from me, and me from him.
He may suspect a little, but I do wonder if he realises where I am.
I am stronger than I imagine, but for how much longer.
These exams may break me, preferably after.
Either way, this will hurt a lot.
I can only hope I hold on, and can create enough distractions, that are happy to redevelop myself after this is all done. To rebirth my desire for survival, for victory, and for happiness and love.
For without it, next year will be worse, and that is just too horrible to fully comprehend.
With diving and dancing, I know not how I can still desire to dive, and dance in blackpool, england and compete internationally in ballroom, and yet still contemplate all that may stop it. That may let it die, with me.
It is uncomprehendable to my much clouded mind.
What is most curious, is I feel I am most clear headed when contemplating and even planning demises of the physical state.
How can that be so?
How many others have truly become like I am this year?
I cannot fathom how others are, but I will never feel I did myself proud in year 12,
and everytime I realise this, I just want to dive headfirst from the gap, or golden gate bridge.
Perhaps that will fade with time, I hope so, for such torment may break me, or at least overtake the rational state.
I have failed umat, medicine next year is not for me, perhaps tis for the best. I need to get my shit together, and medicine may not be the time to do so. I shall try again next year, if I can get there.
Though often I do not see a future.
I would dearly kill to dive, a good dive, something that exhilirates me, makes me feel alive. To be on the edge of death, and yet cheat him of his prize.
A dance, oh how I wish I could find a dance partner, I would dance every night possible. Tis the only time at times that I know I am alive. That this is it, here, now, and you know what, Im fuckin dam well happy to be alive.
The close-human contact, the uniformity of the 2 bodies moving as one in dance, it mesmerises and treats my mind to unseen delights. It makes me feel alive.
If I found a dance partner, to share that with, to dance each friday and saturday night, perhaps life would be better, and perhaps not.
Who knows?
I am still trying to support others in their plights, and I dont think they realise that I too am hurting, sometimes more because they too are in so much pain, and I wish I could remove it from them, though I dont know them, I know that they r suffering, and often with better reasons than myself.
For I have lived a relatively sheltered life, in comparision to many others.
I cry with them, and though we may be thousands of kilometres apart, we r united in our grief, our feelings, our inadequecies, our similar views of the world, our pain, and often our self harming and/or suicidal considerations.
Perhaps it causes me more damage, but I hope where I can, even if it is too my detriment. I dont know why, perhaps Im a fool, my mate stuart says so. He says u have 2 put a price on everyone, and that  everyone else comes second to urself. In fact, he puts no greater price on his family in comparison to me, or his girlfriend.
But to me, others r often more important, especially in their pain. I would sooner hurt greatly than tell someone how much pain they have caused me, in case they hurt from the truth.
Some say that makes me a good person, but I cannot see how. I see myself as horrible, no matter what I do to protect people, I still see them hurting, often from me.
Therefore, despite my efforts, people still hurt.
Lost, tired, scared, scarred badly, and would like to be able to function normally like everyone else, going on about their lives, that they consider so important and crucial, when in the end, it doesnt even matter.
the song golden gate jumpers by cold war kids pretty much sums it all up at times.
Scared to jump, but terified to stay.
Pain, pain, joy.
I see joy, I feel excitement, and I want it all.
Now if this depression will seriously nick off, I can have it all. Im continually told Im a smart kid i have my doubts, but ill give the benefit of the doubt. I still feel love in my heart, and Im looking for someone to give it all too. To hold at night, to smile and think, fuck, Im the luckiest man alive. For a man with a loving spouse, must be the luckiest of all creatures.
I am starting to believe that we perhaps spiritually were once asexual, and that we split, and we really do search for that person to unite with and make us whole again.
Whilst Im not religious, it somtimes seems something like that.
There are many things that cannot be explained by sciences atm, and love, is one of them. Children are special beacuse in reality, or in the ideal world taht sometimes is within my head, it is our offspring that sometimes do and really should represent our love for another person, even if it is love that has since passed.
My apparent relationship with a mate remains questionable, I feel horrible for not speaking my concerns, but I dont want to jump the gun, though I think perhaps whatever I am waiting for may not eventuate.
I dont wanna screw them around, but I dont wanna do damage, I am unsure what to do, I guess manning up is the key soon, and just saying what is really going on, no excuses, and seeing what happens, perhaps a friendship can b maintained. Time shall tell.
For anyone who ever reads it, sorry for my crap, Im trying to understand this all.
If u know me, sorry for it, dont worry about me, I still question whether I b worth ones concerns, keep them 2 urself though please.
The Big D.