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Pathetic Problems

I try to be independent and self-sufficient, but I'd just really love to have a trustworthy best friend.
I try to ignore others' opinions, but I really just want someone to tell me something nice once in a while.
I try to play confident about my body and not give a fuck, but I'm still struggling with my weight.
I try to look like I'm all better, but I'm really still struggling with my problems.

You don't know what love is

...How lips that taste of tears
Lose their taste for kissing...
You don't know how hearts burn
For love that can not live yet never dies.
Until you face each dawn with sleepless eyes...
You dont know what love is.

I've been gone for quite a bit... Time has been moving awfully fast and, in fact, at some moments it has been moving faster than I can keep up with it. I'm still reaching for the stars, but my heart is still aching from unrequited love. I don't even think I will ever recover from this roller coaster of feelings. I would love it if my heart just froze, and I could just stop feeling anything. If I could stop feeling worthless, scared, unloved and lonely. If I could just stop feeling like life is a constant battle. If I could stop feeling that I mustn't ever put my guard down, because I will get hurt the moment I will let anybody get close. If I could just stop feeling like I am constantly fighting an unfair battle.

I don't think I ever felt so betrayed in my life.

In other words, currently I am focusing on my work, work, and nothing else. I mean, I certainly have a lot going on - I might have a chance to perform in a pretty big jazz festival, prepare a program for another, smaller jazz festival in my city, and I might even go to Estonia via an exchange program. So there's a lot to concentrate on, but I'm scared of going crazy and becoming a workaholic without a life.

I guess I just want to say that I want to prove him wrong so bad - just so he could feel how he ripped my heart to pieces. It might be childish and pointless to hold this pain in my heart, because I just won't have a chance to fully heal... But I don't think I'll ever heal anyway... And I am certain that I will get that chance, but I'll have to wait and work hard for it. Because revenge is a dish that just gets better in time.


I am a prisoner of my own demons. Of my own mind.
Breathless and lost, I wander in a maze of crooked, broken mirrors.
The voices in my head laugh while I sob in front of all the distorted reflections.
Trying to pin down... Trying to understand...
What is wrong with me?

So many questions echo, with their answers forever lost.
Every moment rips me into a thousand pieces.
As howl, inside this voiceless shell.

Explanations become irrelevant and inaccurate.
This dull pain is beyond anything that words can describe.
And my own irrational mind holds me hostage,
While it aims a thousand knives at my back.

I used to think a lot of things.
I used to think I was strong and smart and independent.
Now I'm just a small carcass in front of a violent pack of vultures.
Trying to find shelter from these thoughts.
From the "you're worthless" and the "I told you so".
From the "nobody needs you" and "nobody will ever love you",
The "of course you can't do anything right" and "don't even try".
From the laughs
And all these merciless voices
That never let me

The past week or so I began to hear more and more details in my playing, and I noticed that I actually hate my playing. I mean, I'm tired of my old habits, I want more expression, more new ideas and patterns... It's really frustrating when I hear all of these ideas, but I just can't express them. Although my teacher says that it's getting better and better. I guess that's all that really matters, after all - that I'm moving forward, slowly and steadily.

Oh, and I'm seeing Elton John live today. Is it fabulous or what?

The Pains of Unrequited Love
I sure wish I could pull myself up by my bootstraps, but I don't have shoes. I sure wish the people that lecture me about not trying, would instead feel this powerlessness, this exhaustion. Surgeries, epilepsy, depression, eating disorders... I'm so worn out, and my aching heart feels like a huge rock in my chest. It's like every day I'm swimming through a dream, and my nightmares feel more real than this reality. I'm trying to keep my head up, but my feet are sinking down, deeper and deeper. My demons learned to swim, and I can feel them pull me down into the abyss.

At least I know I'm not alone in this... Even if my company is faceless and hiding behind nicknames on the web. At least I know that someone, somewhere identifies with what I'm going through. I'm tired of the people in my environment. I know they mean well, but they only end up hurting me... There's not a soul here that would identify with what I'm going through. Nobody cares. People expect me to just get up and be okay, but I can't stand the pressure anymore.

The weather is nice, though. Cold, sunny and winter-y.

(no subject)
I've started to feel a bit better since yesterday. There was a lot of stuff to do yesterday, I had two lectures and went to this local arts and crafts class, so I came back home feeling rather well. Today I actually feel like I can finally go and practice piano, and also finish the piece for my composition exam. I'm glad that, finally, there are ideas in my head and I want to do something. Because the past week even getting out of bed was real hard.

Also, I thought that it would be nice to write another piece and perform it on my winter exams. My instrument teacher really wants me to perform something of my own, but I've only got this one piece I did for the composition exam, and I just don't think it's good enough...

I'm kind of jealous of this outlook. I've been working on my point of view lately, but it just doesn't come to me naturally. The depression doesn't make it any easier, either. And my teacher is so confident, he doesn't give two shits about what people will say about him. He says "it doesn't matter if people get it or like it - it's your piece, it's your concept". It's true, though - I care too much about being "good enough" for others, and I end up screwing up because of it.

Also, this morning I saw my psychiatrist on TV. Just a random thing I wanted to say.

The clock is ticking, and time is running out. Exams came really fast this year.

There's no more emotion left in me. I can't say that a larger dose of drugs has made things better. The thoughts didn't go anywhere, but I feel calmer, less anxious. Just kind of hollow. And I'm not loving the fact that these antidepressants and anti-psychotics make you gain weight.

I'm scared to eat again. I miss taking topiramate.
But topiramate was shit, too. I felt anxious and suicidal all the fucking time.

The urge to cut occasionally comes again, like thunder on a clear day. But why cut yourself when you can be in love.

The music of winter
I perished and came back to the realm of the living
Feeling more like "the other" than ever before.
I don't even know what's real anymore.
I feel like there's nothing to fear anymore
But my fear certainly feels more real
Than the world around me.

I saw the first snowflake this year.
It foretold stories about a winter
That will soon freeze over my heart
And there won't be another tear shed for you.

I'll miss the you I never had.
Every time I'll wrap my lonely arms around my lungs,
Exhausted from thousands of sighs, I'll miss every hug I never got.
Every second I didn't spend in your arms.
As winter walks into my heart,
I'll miss the warmth I never had a chance to feel.

The music of my soul has said goodbye to sanity.
It dances on every string I pluck,
And every note that I bow tells the story of my exhausting solitude.
Like a wandering bard, telling stories of a land that once was.
And like that wandering bard,
I don't know where my home is anymore.
And I don't know where I belong or where I'm going.

It feels strange that, for such a long time, I was silent, thought I was unworthy of love, that nobody needed me.
It feels strange that, for such a long time, I thought nobody would care if I disappeared.
Maybe it wasn't the best way to finally see that my mind has been playing tricks on me, but my suicide attempt showed me that a lot of people truly care about me and truly miss me.

I told everyone the truth...
I told my dad and brother how much they hurt me...
I told the guy I like about my feelings...
I told everyone everything.
And it truly seems like people care. A LOT.

My diagnosis was caught early enough to be fully treatable, and schizophrenia spectrum doesn't really frighten me. I felt I had it. Always did... Only I was too frightened by my own monsters to speak up.
Now I'm determined to get better.

(no subject)
I tried to swim away from my demons,
But they learned how to swim and drowned me.
And I died for a day.
I let them take off my old skin
Chew me up
And vomit out the mere marrows of my bones...

The past me has died
And now I live.
Reborn and fearless.

I have shifted in this world, and the world has shifted in me.
I set my foot firmly into this parrallel world.


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