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MechanicalMishka

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Hi friends.

I'm the http://www.alonelylife.com/showthread.php?tid=15899 guy.

It's a blank silent night here, I was finally able to drag my tattered self out of crushing despair into apathetic inert 'i don't give a ****' state. Having a feeling that it's just a perfect time to give you guys some laugh, some thinking material. If you're under light sadness or dark maddening depression which makes you cry out loud for short-term relief it may be a refreshing read, or maybe even you're in for a special treat like a drop of red wine mixed with a trail of salty tear shimmering dimly on your woman's lips. I don't know, some people may like the way I express myself, some think I'm weird, ignorant, outright stupid. Most of the time people don't pay tiny bit of attention to me, I go through life unnoticed, like I'm cursed, only shattered souls, hollow and cold from the pain are attracted to me.

Consider me dumb, consider me stuck-up, I'm not gonna lie, it would be so wrong to lie to you, lonesome strangers. So yeah I'm gonna care a little about how my post is recieved, but only because of social phobias and perhaps because I feel like I care about you. Right now is the best time to talk to you, to just let it go and hear something back. If my story is too tl;dr to your liking, if you feel you're intimidated or annoyed, please don't bother and go away. Come back in the right mood. And here I am, after a month of being completely alone, after two days long insomnia, Metallica in my headphones, a smile on my face, a slight sense of madness is present. So here we go.

My apologies if my story is explicit. Don't read if you're too sensitive or a minor, please. Oh well, at least a mod will read through in any case.

When in school I was the most social person you'd ever meet. Had lots of temporary false 'friends' a few of true ones and one who was like a brother to me. We thought alike, spoke alike and liked same girls. He was physically attractive, me - not so much or so I thought at the time. I grew up fatherless, you see, I lived with mother, sister, grandmother and niece. Women being all around me, I did not develop homosexual traits though I've tried gay sex out of curiosity. I do not believe you are born homosexual and that's it. It's possible to become one if you're young and given a chance to. Fortunately I was spared of the fate of being gay in Soviet Russia. As a teen I resented homosexuals, hated and despised them covering gaping tears in my own sexual insecurity. Now when my mind is clear and I'm a man I feel indifferent to them like I am to other people. It's just their sex preference, they sleep with neither child nor animal, a sane independent human, who may be cruel or caring, cold or passionate, loyal or treacherous. They feel love, jealosy, affection or hate. So I wasn't in any way attracted to men but I was growing up all emotional like a girl, I believed that my nose is extra huge and misplaced, had a feeling that I'm imperfect, like most teen females had. I never had sex with a woman before 19. I desired it greatly, sought it, lusted it. While my best friend had all the female attention he could possibly handle only for his looks. We were almost the same except looks, same clothes, habbits, knowledge, we were even born the same year and month. Had I known that that my facial appearance wasn't ugly, that it had it's own attractive features then things would have been different. I had a few chances of having sex but I was always drunk because I was afraid, silly me. Never had satisfying results. With a drunk girl on the back seat of a deserted car, with a drunk older girl on the bench outside her house at night, with a sober girl in her home which resulted in nothing as I was sober too and horrified, rejected her to defend and keep my fears. Social anxiety appeared. I wore a mask, cheerful and pleasant on the outside, wary, self-concious and doubful behind it's cover. But that's not the reason of me becoming a shut-in.

My sister's husband hanged himself in 90's, I was 9 at the time, me and my mom discovered the body. My sister died year later at the age of 28, someone smashed her head in, she only left coma to say goodbye to my mom, I was present at the moment. My niece with whom I grew up together was taken away by her father's relatives along with all of my sister's property, not a single nail was left in the wall. My mother was in grief and let all that happen. My grandmother who was 82 died the same year, painfully, in her bed, first losing the ability of speech, then hearing and sight. My mom has taken a punch in the mouth and persevered. Me, I was a kid. She said I slept for only few hours a night, could not sleep for two days straight. Never smiled, never played with others, talked to myself or imaginary person. I don't recall such details, I just remember tinkering with my toys, walking around my room while daydreaming, reading Bible which is strange as I'm definitely not a religious person.

Now. Later when I was older my lost father found me, bought me a beer and took me to his home. He was living completely alone, bald, fat, broken. He told me stories about my mom, showed me their love letters and black-and-white photos. Said he loved me. I said nothing to him as I felt nothing. He died the same year and I wasn't present when they buried him. Haven't visited his grave still. Nothing to see there, nothing to think about, nothing to say or to remember.

My niece found her way back home, I call her 'sis'. She was abused by her new 'stepfater', a cop, who beat her, and I think he attempted sexual assault on her at least once. She lived till 15 sharing her room with a crazy ancient hag, that ***** was completely mad and they were hiding her from authorities out of 'pity'. She talked only in gibberish, threw own honeysuckle across the room, was running away ocasionally bending iron bars of the fence with her bare hands. She lost a son to suicide, my niece's father, she took a punch in the mouth as well but had not enough willpower to endure. I remember her being sane, she had a tidy nice house and delicious tiny pancakes.

My sis is a junkie. So painfully light and thin you can see her fingerbones. She's tried everything except IV use of drugs, though I'm not so sure about it now. Won't be long before she destroys herself suddenly and completely in a matter of months. She expresses fascination towards opiates. The funniest part is, no one can do anything about it, she justifies her addiction so deftly that it makes you want to quietly leave her and cry bitterly realising how fruitless are your efforts. Lives with my mother, but is always on the move, with friends. They call themselves psychonauts I think, kids of rich parents, they consider themselves spiritual and enlightened and can be so clueless and naive and yet so manipulative and inventive when it comes to getting a desired dose of drug, seeking out new hallucination-triggering chemicals.

Haven't seen my little sis for six months already.

All of this together made me a shut-in but I don't know for sure. I was completely normal for a while after school, lost old friends, found new, had sex, parties, fullest social life, successfully avoided army draft as it is a terrible thing in third world countries. I don't remember how I got here, memories are strangely escaping me in a blur now that I try to recall. Depression, apathy, no emotions. Dropped out of two universities, friends slowly stopped visiting, their faces faded away, had frequent nightmares. Started playing an MMO rpg, got attached to it as the only source of satysfying social needs. My thoughts at the time - I will kill myself the moment my life becomes unbearable, made nessesary arrangements, prepared myself mentally. The thoughts were hopeless, I believed my life was in ruins, I was spent, empty and had no desire to make an effort to become 'successful'. Death was more appealing.

Then she happened. Yeah, just at the right time, suddenly, a girl of my age and mind. A cold hollow soul, a tortured life, arms cut so deep the scars were protruding pale and wide, cigarette burn marks on her left hand and neck. She was truly beautiful. Her soul knew sorrow no man can comprehend, her body had history, yet so young like a schoolgirl's. It's not my place to share her life details. I'll just mention group rape, pedophilia victim, divorce, stillborn. She was twitching in her sleep, scratching her legs until bleeding, sometimes she threw her legs up in the air while sleeping too. Met her ingame, after playing together for a year or half she said she loves me. I did not reject her. She bought a plane ticket and was at my doorstep before I could react or doubt our decision. I started loving her back. Emotions came back to me. I thought she was special, I was consumed. Got a good job, did translations from English in my spare time, quit playing games. I was earning enough money for us both to leave country once every couple of months, because it was nessesary for her to stay here legally. I became bold and tough enough when needed despite my skinny frame, sometimes you've got stand up for yourself and your family because law and public order won't protect you. So I became a confident man she needed. We were leaving for countries of Middle Asia, as it was cheaper and easier and also didn't require a visa.

We got careless, she got pregnant, we decided to give it a try. She gave birth to a baby girl that died after a few breaths. She was so frail, my little girl, my little Mishka, she had so many health problems, she was unable to give birth to a child at the time. I persevered, she bled inside all over again. I won't speak about it any more, this is just too much even for me now. I clawed onto my sanity, I did my best efforts to endure, to crawl through the darkness. I managed to recover, for my love, for her love I survived, she was with me despite all odds, we still had a chance. I took a dog home some time after, a cute adorable puppy, it cheered my baby up. Then Human started to act like naughty puppies usualy do. Chewing internet cable, furniture, even walls, leaving poo wherever he finds it appropriate. She did not like it. He had a dog toilet she said, he had toys to gnaw on she said. She wished for me to make him dissappear. She wished something we both took into our care not to be. I made a connection between him and our love. Out of spite I broke his neck or I thought so. He made a sound only humans are capable of. He cried with immence horror of death, innocent being slaughtered by a monster, a cry full of fear, pain, inevitable death, hope and love for me. Something snapped inside of me but I didn't falter, I cried out loud too, like a beast. It frightened me, I felt I was striken insane, would never be the same, like something irreversible had happened to me, I wanted to let him go but feared he will just suffer some more and die anyway. She stormed in the room crying, kicked me in the head. I had relaxed my grip and we both were holding him. His eyes were moving, we listened to his breath and heart then he slowly walked away. He fully recovered within days which seemed like a miracle to me, like Mr. Jesus himself decided that extreme guilt is too much for me to handle. I expressed this thought to her and she replied that I am not a real man like I led her to believe, I claimed to kill for her, I claimed to kill her if she cheated on me, but I cannot even kill an animal. She said if she would've slept with lowest disgusting people, I'd forgive her and let her into my life again out of fear that I won't see her ever again and deep inside to my surprise I felt she speaks true. She said she doesn't love me. As she saw my blodshot eyes, my grinding teeth she realised that she had crossed my limit mark, she knew I'm suicidal and she said she's very 'sorry', she said she does not need my life, she wants to be left alone. I gave Human away to people who will surely love him better along with all his things, I wouldn't be able to look at him and stay mentally intact, he's all right now, happy, though maybe scarred as are we all. Then she took a plane to her birthplace town to die she said. In a very special place to her, didn't tell me where is this place. Haven't heard from her ever since.

The sad part is that I wasn't able to kill myself after all this. I used alcohol, got too emotional, hit a wall, broke my fist. I used marijuanna - it turned into a psychotic slow nightmare. Now I'm a bit better, though at times I'm going mad which is extremely frightening feeling when mind clears up for a moment. She simply took away cogs and gears that kept Mechanical Mishka's sanity functional. And after 23 years of life, nothing is gained, only exhausting loneliness, much have been experienced, except being a loving father and feeling of seconds-away incoming certain death.

Now is your turn. Tell me about your depression and loneliness, I dare you.

Or your thoughts about my life.

How do you fix something as broken as it is?

Do you feel the need to harass me about violence towards animals?

Will this be allowed to stay here and be read through for some time at least?

Do you not believe me? You may consider all this fictional, if it rids me of questioning the plausibility of my life. I just want some reaction.

And in case you're wondering Mishka means an adorable baby bear, we used this word to adress each other as we both did not like our given names. Now it's just a construct of sounds and letters bringing painful memories whenever I may read or hear it.

A story once promised now told. I'm alive enough to want a cup of tea, expecting to read some insights once I'm back, hopefully.



 
I'm sorry.

I won't begin to try to suggest to you what is 'right' to you, but hurting or killing innocent animals that you've taken into your care only makes you less of a man, I would think. I do not blame you at all. If anything, you seem to have come off as a genuinely decent person who's tried to be strong to the people you care about.

You need to forgive yourself. Its not your fault that the world is as twisted and cruel as it can be, and you can only do so much to try to fix it. You were strong for her - now you should be strong for yourself, because in the end, if you want to help someone else, you need to be able to help yourself.

I think you also have realized this. The world is a cruel, unforgiving place and the fact that you realize this, gives you something of meaning - you can try to change this, and you can do something about it. It is difficult, but you have that opportunity, or so I believe, and that opportunity can, perhaps not make up for it, but at least mean something for someone else someday. Someone who also has been in your situation. And as you never received help, perhaps they would.

Its something, isn't it?
 
I'm sorry too. I'd never imagined I'd do and say the things I did. I got cruel and twisted as my environment and you have a right to throw a stone at me if you had never hurt anyone.

I just wanted to drop this off my chest. Try and analyze the succession of events while I'm at this too. Things that made me who I am, the cause of my cold determination while I was holding him, looking into his unaware innocent eyes as I was about to twist his neck. Thinking about it brings forth an urge to cry but no tears left for today. Strangely the cause for what I did was Love. Hah!

The dog was just the last drop. Don't think I do not regret my existence, IgnoredOne. If I only knew how to help others so I too in turn could lift some weight off my chest as a result...

I'd live on if only I had something worth living for...

The only thing I can help myself is to make a rope out of our bed sheets and tie it to a door knob, as I'm in pain. If only I had my meaning back, I'd never let it go again. But it's dead. Everything is dead, part of my flesh lies dead too, only a cell phone photo of it remains. What can heal me? A miracle of time travel that's what. Or my death.

I will drag my hide through days before I'm either dead or hollow. Regret for breakfast, pain for lunch. Dinners of cold-served sorrow with bits of broken hopes on top. That's my meal for the rest of the days as I crumble into disrepair.

Thank you for kind words nonetheless.

 
When our babies (twins) died. Sherry
totally flipped it. It happened a week
after we burried her father. 5 yrs I stood by her side...alcoholism is a progressive disease. The person that
has it turns into a kettle. The person
that lives with it turns into a crack pot.
It was really fucken crazy...

So...theres Jenni. A beautiful young healthy women with so much love.
So much going for her.. All she wanted from me was to love her back...
When she died. I totally flipped out.

It brought back up alot of emotions
I never delt with. My HsGF Andrea died on Easter Sunday.

So when Renae came back to me...
Scars all over her arms as if her arms were wrap by barbwires. One ngiht she
was screaming her heart out becuase she knew how much I love her and that she didnt want to hurt me...I ran into
the bathroom to prevent her from slashing her wrist. A week after we separated...She was screaming her heart out of how much she loves me. Shes MIA somewhere. Last I spoke to her. She told me she love me with all h
 
Hi-
I'm sorry that your baby died. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. I'm sorry too that you lost your father before he died and then again when he passed on. Is it possible that you haven't properly grieved these losses? Curious as to why you brought up homosexuality in the first few sentences of your story. Seems like that's important to you. Just my observation.
Take care of yourself and stick around awhile.

Teresa
 
I dont even know what to say. Your story is one of the saddest I have ever heard. When I got done reading I felt like my heart had been ripped out and my soul was drained of all goodness. I dont think people can be 'fixed' like some broken machine, but all emotional and mental wounds can heal with work.

Despite being an avid animal rescuer, in no way do I want to harass you for your violence towards the puppy, and I am not sure I can even put to words why not. I know in part I dont judge you out of pity, in part because I know when people grow up with a lot of violence and trauma around them, its easy and natural to fall into violent ways as well. I think its the fact that you really seem remorseful of what you did, and that you truly acted against who you are. I am ever thankful you didnt do any real harm to the puppy, and found him a great home. Because of this, and because of your obvious loving and caring side and your desire to exercise it, I do not think you are eternally broken.

Do you still work and make good money? Have you ever sought any sort of psychiatric therapy? You are very young still, psychologists say people are still adolescents until the age of 25, I think there is hope that you can find happiness in this world, or at the very least come to some sort of peace and understanding with your past.

You are a great writer, and have many heavy stories to tell. A lot of americans love tragic biographies, its just a bonus if they are written by people who live in 3rd world countries. You should consider writing a book about your plights. I think sometimes people can gain insight and peace with their own lives when writing about them as well.

Good luck to you
 
I throw no stones. I have hurt people, though I can only submit that each and every one deserved it. They were not good people. Neither do I blame you nor do I think that you should regret your existence; you have lived and loved and learned to fight, and perhaps this victory was not to be yours, but I think...there was something that you gained from it, something worthwhile.

I would only ask you to try to live, love and fight for yourself now. If you wish to help others, you must be able to help yourself first - and I do not think it is best by ending your existence. There is still enough of a fight in you, I think, and more than a bit of education, that you can improve your situation and if nothign else, let othes know of your story. Of her story.

Sometimes and all so often, it is the knowledge alone that can save. And if you die, or let yourself become silenced, then what is left of all that was beautiful, of all that could be? It would become as lost as everything else.

I would choose to live if I was you, and choose to fight, if only to spite the evil that has sought to destroy the human spirit. Do not let them win.
 
I'm back in town and I'd like to reply to you people.

For the past few days I was living in a cottage out in countryside.

Drinking whiskey and trying to write a song. I haven't been able to compose anything at least resembling 'decent' in the end.

Though I've realised I'm not able to break through depression no matter how hard I try. It has become a part of me. It's sad really that I feel I cannot be at peace anymore. I don't know for how long I've been in this state but it's been long enough and there seems to be no end to it. I cry, I break things, I do harm to my body. I cut I burn I stab myself but mental pain does not go away.

I've lit the fireplace. Wood making light cracking sound, mountain river humming in familiar voices, vocal hallucinations of phrases spoken so long ago that they make no sense anymore. My thoughts drifted on forever until I could not keep them in order and started to talk to the fire. I tried to kiss it and burnt my lips. Yes I belive I've gone mad. When I close my eyes I see visions of distorted faces and strangely, worms. Lots of worms devouring the distorted faces. Sometimes visions frighten me. Like a jump-scare in a video game or zombie movie. Amongst slippery soothing darkness of shut eyelids there's a 'boo' of an undescribable grotesque image. That's what happens when I try to sleep. Only a hefty dose of mixed alcoholic drinks makes me pass out and forget myself in a blessed slumber. I've spent four long days in a complete nightmare. I'm still frightened that I'm going insane. Means I've still small islands of sanity I better cling onto and try to survive. The emotions I endure are sometimes turn into pleasure reminding me that I'm truly alive. Now I'm back in my room and willing to talk to a living soul if you don't mind replying. So here we go again. Goodbye Gate 21 in my headphones, an uneasy sense of madness is present.

Lonesome Crow said:
When our babies (twins) died. Sherry
totally flipped it. It happened a week
after we burried her father. 5 yrs I stood by her side...alcoholism is a progressive disease. The person that
has it turns into a kettle. The person
that lives with it turns into a crack pot.
It was really fucken crazy...

So...theres Jenni. A beautiful young healthy women with so much love.
So much going for her.. All she wanted from me was to love her back...
When she died. I totally flipped out.

It brought back up alot of emotions
I never delt with. My HsGF Andrea died on Easter Sunday.

So when Renae came back to me...
Scars all over her arms as if her arms were wrap by barbwires. One ngiht she
was screaming her heart out becuase she knew how much I love her and that she didnt want to hurt me...I ran into
the bathroom to prevent her from slashing her wrist. A week after we separated...She was screaming her heart out of how much she loves me. Shes MIA somewhere. Last I spoke to her. She told me she love me with all h

I don't know what to say to ease your suffering. You wrote these lines so long ago but the pain still emanates from them. If it comforts you, know that your limit mark is possibly lifetimes higher than mine. I'd really like to hope you've endured and still are capable of living. She has a beautiful name, Renae. Treasure her memories, relive in remembrance. Know that somewhere is a mind that had carefully read through your words and felt them.

SofiasMami said:
Hi-
I'm sorry that your baby died. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. I'm sorry too that you lost your father before he died and then again when he passed on. Is it possible that you haven't properly grieved these losses? Curious as to why you brought up homosexuality in the first few sentences of your story. Seems like that's important to you. Just my observation.
Take care of yourself and stick around awhile.

Teresa

I value your thoughts on my story and I thank you for wishing me well. I believe that every bit of good will is so much important to me. If you're still curious I feel like I've indeed 'properly' grieved the loss of a part of me and Erica. Now that I think about it something makes me shut away from this loss. Like an unseen force preventing me from thinking about it, I don't even remember how and for how long have I grieved it, but believe me I've felt everything a father of a dead firstborn child feels and even more. As for my own father, imagine a stranger telling you that he's your father and the next news you hear about him is his death. Even if you hold no grudges about him leaving you and your mother in a third world country's 90's - he's still a stranger. How do you feel about a random person dying? About a random person betraying you? You've never known him and you grew up thinking you have no father. Yes it's sad, but this is how you've spent your life, without him. Makes no difference if he appears after 19 years, when he's old and lonely.

About gays I don't know why I've brought this up. It's just an attempt to analyze my lfe it seems. Feels like it's out of context but back then I felt like I had to speak about it. Maybe it was my random untamed thought. Maybe in this case it carries even much more special significance.

Once again thank you that you didn't ignore me and replied. Thanks for the welcome, I appreciate the sincerity.

septicemia said:
I dont even know what to say. Your story is one of the saddest I have ever heard. When I got done reading I felt like my heart had been ripped out and my soul was drained of all goodness. I dont think people can be 'fixed' like some broken machine, but all emotional and mental wounds can heal with work.

Despite being an avid animal rescuer, in no way do I want to harass you for your violence towards the puppy, and I am not sure I can even put to words why not. I know in part I dont judge you out of pity, in part because I know when people grow up with a lot of violence and trauma around them, its easy and natural to fall into violent ways as well. I think its the fact that you really seem remorseful of what you did, and that you truly acted against who you are. I am ever thankful you didnt do any real harm to the puppy, and found him a great home. Because of this, and because of your obvious loving and caring side and your desire to exercise it, I do not think you are eternally broken.

Do you still work and make good money? Have you ever sought any sort of psychiatric therapy? You are very young still, psychologists say people are still adolescents until the age of 25, I think there is hope that you can find happiness in this world, or at the very least come to some sort of peace and understanding with your past.

You are a great writer, and have many heavy stories to tell. A lot of americans love tragic biographies, its just a bonus if they are written by people who live in 3rd world countries. You should consider writing a book about your plights. I think sometimes people can gain insight and peace with their own lives when writing about them as well.

Good luck to you

You know, I'd like make a reply to you that would feel special but I'm unable to word it out just like I wasn't able to write a song. Thank you for telling me I'm a good witer but anyone is just as good if he or she has something to write about. When I was younger I tried to write something inspired but I lacked life experience and OH GOD knows it, I now know more than enough drama to share and combine into a novel or poem if I ever bother to make the effort to. It's just a matter of experience.

I don't think I can seek out an adequate psychiatric help in my country even if I wanted to. I'm not even in Russia right now. When my woman was with me she provided me with psychological treatment as she WAS an educated specialist of psychology herself. Now I belive that any person capable of speech can deliver a mentally ill some relief and peace.
You could do it if you get rid of uneasyness accompaying a conversation with a pained mind. I think it's at least entertaining.

IgnoredOne said:
I throw no stones. I have hurt people, though I can only submit that each and every one deserved it. They were not good people. Neither do I blame you nor do I think that you should regret your existence; you have lived and loved and learned to fight, and perhaps this victory was not to be yours, but I think...there was something that you gained from it, something worthwhile.

I would only ask you to try to live, love and fight for yourself now. If you wish to help others, you must be able to help yourself first - and I do not think it is best by ending your existence. There is still enough of a fight in you, I think, and more than a bit of education, that you can improve your situation and if nothign else, let othes know of your story. Of her story.

Sometimes and all so often, it is the knowledge alone that can save. And if you die, or let yourself become silenced, then what is left of all that was beautiful, of all that could be? It would become as lost as everything else.

I would choose to live if I was you, and choose to fight, if only to spite the evil that has sought to destroy the human spirit. Do not let them win.

You tell the obvious words I expected you to tell. Though I feel flattered for you noticing my humble bits of English knowledge I know I sometimes overuse and look ridiculous as a result. I'd like to thank you for your effort to inspire me but I'm afraid I'm already hollow and spent.

I'm choosing to live and fight but only because for now it's easier than to die. And maybe because there's always hope as they say.

IgnoredOne, know that I truly value your insights. Seems to me you aren't so simple yourself.

And now. If you don't mind, anyone, drop me a PM. I'll share my Skype details with you and talk to you extra-long-term. Don't feel uneasy, don't feel intimidated or afraid. I won't bother you if my mind isn't clear. I'm under effects of alcohol at the moment of writing but only to help me get to sleep. I'm not feeling drunk or anything. Got literally not a single living soul to talk to.
 
I don't really have anything to say that you probably haven't heard before but I wanted to tell you that I love the way you write...you put so much emotion into your words.
Reading your story was like watching a movie in my mind and I have this mental picture now, however incorrect it may be, of you and the kind of life you've had.
The love you had with your girlfriend sounds like it was a powerful thing, almost maddening. I was in love like that once. We were (and still are) very broken people but we loved wildly. It was a very passionate relationship and it almost swallowed me whole. We were always either in complete bliss or total dispair depending on how I decided to act that day. I have bipolar disorder and my erratic moods along with my overall mental state never left any room for normalcy.
I've come to believe though that relationships like that are never meant to last. They end up as bittersweet memories at best...at their worst they leave wounds that never quite heal.
If you'd ever like to talk I'm usually always around. I don't use the private message feature here much because its not cell phone friendly but you can PM me anyway and I'll send you my email address.
In any case i hope you find peace within yourself soon because I know that's what I search for every day. We can let the monsters of our past grow inside of us until they eat us alive if we're not careful.

 
It's been a long time for me waiting.

My bottle is empty and I'm going to sleep soon. It's daytime already here, feels so good to not give a **** due to alcohol dampening the senses.

MountainGhost, It feels great not to be alone. I'd like to hope I've been accurate enough for you to have the right picture of me on your mind. I'll drop you a line, just you wait.

You're right it was maddening, you're right it was strong, stronger than I am. If it was just another Jane Randoms I'd be intact like the dog I tried to slaughter. I wonder how you gathered strength to exist through the days. I guess you haven't had the death of your love and daughter tossed at you as a bonus. I think if she had not died we'd be together again after some time, we've been there before. Her mother said to me she is dead (thanks to me) some time ago, before I went to cottage. And this news is no surprise, she've always had the determination and manliness I feel I lack. Stupid *****. Should have just waited, lacks my patience, posesses inborn impulsiveness which I love. I miss her breath.

But really my problem at the moment is that I'm going mad, that's what troubling me mostly, the thoughts, the visions. Have anyone had those? My own mind is the death of me, I am the death of her and I'm in between the deaths of everyone I am and was close with. I'm on the brink of insanity and that's what's intriguing to me, the *******, though it's painful. If I manage to emerge victorious, I'd probably drop a thread into 'success stories' subforum. I really want to have the reason to though I'd be truly a monstrous emotionless construct if I somehow survive, the only way to make it is to be stripped of feelings which in my current state I would not describe as a 'success'.

Or more likely I'll probably end up in asylum as soon I'm discovered and be stuffed with so much drugs my bones would bend and my heels pressed against my nape. Ha!

I think too much. I better get some sleep. It should be night time in the US I think, the time most depressed loners grace the internet with their presence, hopefully I'll have some replies once I'm awake. Good night, my lonely life, see you tomorrow, you cheap filthy slut.
 
I read through the whole thread and I don't know what to say. I love how you wrote, it was like a movie told in words. But I absolutely feel drained and sad - it was one of the saddest stories I ever read. I could sense your pain, sorrow and passion spiraling down into darkness, it was insane. I can't believe how young you are to have been through all this too. I think you are strong to have made it this far, repairing your life will take a lot of time, patience and determination. I can't offer any advice, but I think the past is really holding onto you (hence getting visions) and I know how difficult it is, but you will have to accept your past and let go of it to move on. I'm sure something good will come in your life again, you're still young, intelligent and a great guy.
 
Well I'm definitely a lot better after a healthy sleep. Hoping my faint optimism isn't going to be short-lived. There are living humans who have it harder than me. You know, someone in Uzbekistan prison is boiled alive or getting raped with an aids-infected stick for their religious beliefs. There's someone that was made to wash his son's bloody remains off the asphalt ground. Some child is being sexually abused on camera which will leave her body and soul deformed for the rest of her life. Someone got his head cut off and his relatives were made to watch. There are places on the globe where people aren't concious of themselves, living in poverty, posessing little to no education and knowledge of what's outside the borders of their prison state, outside of one mortal man's POWER limits. There are people with a stone in their hands pitted against monstrous weapons of destruction operated by men who take orders out of fear, from superiors who in turn are vassals to a man who issues orders out of different kind of fear. A mechanism built on the backs of slaves just as it was from the beginning. There are religiously zombified people made to kill and enjoy it and know nothing for themselves. Just think about it.

Me? I have the luxury to feel grief, feel love, find joy in my bittersweet emotions. Slowly moving farther away from the past, step by step. I have food and shelter, a sum of imaginary currency people use to measure the value of all things substantial and emotional or even human lives, called money, I have also arranged a painless exit, a 'quit game' comforting button. I will recover with time. I know it like a wild beast or innocent child knows something as a certain truth.

Yes, I'm young, yes there's hope although maybe illusionary, it doesn't matter as long as it is present.

I'll grow strong, much stronger. If I survive this I'm going to overcome anything else. And I like this thought.

I'm also well aware that right now it's just my brain's chemical activity at work. Hormones of happines induce this kind of bearable state, because human being cannot handle complete neverending nightmare. But I realise I'm still very much sane, my mind is clearer and on the surface it seems like no major harm had been done to it.

hellomiko said:
I read through the whole thread and I don't know what to say. I love how you wrote, it was like a movie told in words. But I absolutely feel drained and sad - it was one of the saddest stories I ever read. I could sense your pain, sorrow and passion spiraling down into darkness, it was insane. I can't believe how young you are to have been through all this too. I think you are strong to have made it this far, repairing your life will take a lot of time, patience and determination. I can't offer any advice, but I think the past is really holding onto you (hence getting visions) and I know how difficult it is, but you will have to accept your past and let go of it to move on. I'm sure something good will come in your life again, you're still young, intelligent and a great guy.

I apologize to you and anyone who experienced sad emotions while reading my story. Thank you for your kind words and thank you for taking your time to read.

To all of you guys and gals here. I'll try to be a stronger and better person. Just don't know what action I have to make first. Here and now, while I have this inspiring drive. I think shaving my burnt beard will have to do for starters. Then a soothing shower procedure with a cup of black coffee afterwards and I'll be silent about myself for a time at least and read what you guys are going to say. Will check out the other threads too.

You know what I don't like about shy people is that we feel the need to cut off the conversation with 'take care' or 'good luck'. It looks like saying 'Goodbye. I wish you well'. It just feels like it, though probably people say it simply out of shyness. I don't wanna say goodbyes everytime I post a reply to someone, let's keep the lonely conversations going, I'd like to say 'Greetings. Stay awhile with me'. I'll be back participating in various extremly fun forum activities very soon.


 

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