DISCLAIMER
LIVEJOURNAL
2005-07-18 - 2:58 a.m.
I was reading my new edition of Gothic Beauty and saw this awesome article on this amazing artist called Mark Ryden. He has to be one of the most talented and eerie painters that I've ever seen! His artwork is unbelievable! Go take a look! It's amazing!
Anyways, as always, I'm extreamly depressed. It never fails. The depression comes up all around me and swallows me whole. It makes things that I want to let go of or forget seem like the things that I can't discard for fear of loosing something important. I feel like so much is being asked of me and the pressure of being "the good child" is all too much for me. I feel as if my brother robbed me of an opportunity for me to go to the hospital so I may heal myself. He only used his "depression" as an excuse to shade his drunkeness. I need help. I'm willing to change. He is not.
I wish to rid myself of everything right now, just go away, start new and anonymous. I want to travel from here and not come back until I've found what I've been looking for. I wish that I can just leave this place, but I know that I cannot.
I'm so close to the end I can feel it. So close that if I climb into my bathtub right now, it would fill me with shear exstacy to slide the thin blade of my sharp knife along my veins, to see the blood escape from my body with such happiness. I want to feel my life drain slowly from me. I want my head to be empty and blank. I wish this would happen. But my body has this horrible resistance to my mind's delirious wishes. It won't cooperate.
Last night was a horrible night to have insomnia and depression. My mind plays tricks on me. It makes me believe there is something there when it isn't. It makes me feel alone and I want to be alone, but I also want to be held, to be consoled. To hear that it will pass and that I am not alone. But, I am alone. And I will be alone for a very long time. At least, that's what I feel. *sigh* I don't want to share my useless existance with someone, but at the same time, I wish to be loved. I wish to at least feel loved, feel like someone actually wants to help me. I want to cry in someone's arms and not care if I stain thier clothes with my tears. I want to show someone the inside of me, the real me under all the make-up and smiles, the ugly, God-aweful monster that lies deep within the walls I've put up. And for them to absolutely, unconditionally love me for all that I am, through all that I've been through, as damaged and ugly a creature I am, I want them to love me and hold me as their own and make me feel like there will be something left for me in the morning and that I do matter and have some purpose here.
If only that could really happen...
...if only...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
everytime I look at my face, I see something I can't be
Beautiful and carefree, that's how I used to be
Like some freak, I'm so weak
something takes a hold of me, something I can't believe
