Random bits of writing

Pulling into a nearby truck stop he looked around with eyes that were not exactly his and not exactly sane. Finding a one at the truck stop wasn’t difficult, since he got back he could feel them. It was almost like it was a part of him. Right now the pull was so strong he barely could conceal his need.

“Can I help you with something?” He asked the blond standing just inside the door. The blond was just passably pretty.

“Sure sugar,” It replied with a smile.

“Wouldn’t you rather have something else?” Jared grinned, this was way too easy.

“What did you have in mind sugar,” she dropped her voice into an almost sexy southern drawl.

Jared grinned a lopsided grin that he knew was irresistible before grabbing her hand and leading her towards the bathrooms at the back of the bar. Too easy, he thought, Way too easy.” She allowed him to lead her undoubtedly thinking of him as her next victim.

They entered the truck stops only bathroom. The smells struck Jared immediately, piss and various other substances he didn’t want to know about assailed him. Without preamble he pushed her up against the wall his hands pushing her skirt up around her waist. He reached for the knife at his back and grinned at her wickedly.

“A bad boy huh?” she smiled at him still not understanding. He slid the knife under her panties slicing them cleanly from her body. He didn’t really want her. He wanted someone he could never have. The blond ground against him as her panties fell to the floor. He shivered thoughts of Morgan shimmering through his mind making him rock hard. He unzipped his jeans with his free hand and hoisted her up against the wall. He entered her quickly, roughly. She just laughed taking his length into her. Jared began to rock against her their bodies making a wet sound along with the thud of her hips against the wall he held her too. He grinned as she rode him squealing at the sensation. His other hand came up the knife still gleaming wickedly. He put it against her throat so it bit into her flesh with each thrust of his body into hers.

“Like it rough?” she asked not realizing that the knife was cutting into her with each movement until she felt the cold length of it pressing into her throat. Jared continued to pound into her his eyes clouding over with bloodlust as he watched the dark red liquid slide down her neck staining her white blouse. He leaned forward to lap at the wound. There was something darkly erotic about sucking the blood from the slit he’d made. The knife dropped and clattered to the floor as he leaned in tasting her, his teeth making marks as he sucked at the wound widening it. The blond began to feel his blunt teeth she tried desperately to move his head away from the wound. He continued to move inside her warmth spreading through his body as he lapped greedily at the blood not caring that he was now tearing into her neck.

His arm came up his hand wrapping around her throat and squeezing as she began to make pained noises. He dug his teeth into her shoulder trying to find purchase on her blood slicked skin. His hand tightened into a punishing grip, the blond gasped and tried to pull away as he pounded into her his teeth finally breaking the skin on her shoulder.

“You!” she whispered through his constricting grip. He leaned back for a moment never losing rhythm as he fucked her.

“Yes, me.” He stated simply pausing for only a moment to watch her terror filled eyes. So nice, the wicked thing that was the voice in his head whispered More, it pleaded and he was all too happy to comply as the power rushed through him. He began to concentrate on his movements as he slammed into her cracking the mirror behind her head. She went limp as he came inside her, the blood coursing through him as he pulled the life from her body. He stopped moving pulling out of her and watched as the light slowly left her eyes.

He dropped her body on the ground tucking himself back into his jeans and buttoning them up. The power coursed through his body. He looked down at the girl before him, a girl he could have saved but for the amount of blood he took from her. She lay bleeding still the breath long since gone, the life gradually leaving her.

Jared sighed softly instantly regretting what he’d done to the girl. He moved over to the sink and stared at himself in the cracked and faded mirror. Blood covered the lower half of his face. He rinsed it off and picked up the knife. Just do it, the dark voice whispered, Do it and you will never have to go through this again. He unfastened the leather band that he wore around his wrist. He growled softly pain lancing through him as he sliced the top of his arm creating a perfect bleeding line deep but not deep enough to need stitching. Thankfully Morgan kept the knives sharp. This cut would join the other striped scars on his wrist some new others long since scarred over. He snapped the leather back over the bleeding wrist and watched it as it turned darker blood seeping from around it. He cleaned himself up checking his shirt for telltale signs of what he’d just done. He picked the girl up and put her into one of the stalls where she wouldn’t be found for a while. He closed his eyes for a moment, “I’m sorry,” he whispered not knowing to whom.

Screaming Infinity, It was Bound to Happen

What is the next rush? When is the next time? When will I feel like this again? I sit and wait for it knowing that the next rush is right around the corner. I am trapped lately though. Stuck on the merry go round that just won’t stop and let me off. The cats chase the horses round and round until the spinning goes to my head and my eyes roll back. I doubt there is someone who can actually make my eyes roll back in my head but it is good to dream and it is the only time that I feel absolute freedom and hope.

I am not sure if I am tired because I am pushing myself or if I push myself because I am tired and hurts so bad that I can’t scream once because I will never stop. The truth is I guess I am just tired. I want to know that the things that I believe in are real but there is no proof. I don’t want to say that I won’t take anything on faith but I know too many people suffering right now. I know to many people screaming for death or screaming for life to take things on simple faith.

I explained the problem with me once before and I don’t think they quite got it. I am not right, there is something about me that screams when I try to be normal. When I don’t scream it drives me mad. “Down the rabbit hole Alice” A large part of me is dying slowly while the rest of me just hasn’t caught up yet. I could love but am no longer sure what that is in some ways I don’t think I ever did. The ones who I loved are all gone now and I am by myself in a house filled with people. If their kind of love is what brought me to this point then I am not sure I want to know what love is.

Ever see what is going to happen before it does?

Remember the blog post on things that cannot be unseen… yeah I live in that dark and sweaty world. It is extremely disconcerting because there is nothing that is comfortable about a juxapostian.

Can’t Sleep the Clowns Will Eat Me

No seriously they will…

This is for everyone out there suffering from depression, in a depressing situation, or who is just tired of living. Unfortunately there really isn’t anything that I can say to change this but it would be nice.

Now seems as good of a time as any to start writing this. I am not sure why I have the urge or what it will accomplish but well here it is. Tonight was a good night. I finished what I needed to do (kind of there is always more). I took my medication and then some –

Med list –

  • 1 100mg anti-depressant     check
  • 1 100mg anti-depressant     check (yes it is a different one)
  • 1 1 milligram antianxiety     check (as I have said it has been a good night and I don’t need more)
  • 2 OTC sleeping pills               check

Now the fact that I wash this all down with a cup of coffee might seem a bit counterproductive to some but hey I like the taste of coffee.

It is amazing to me that there are not many people who  understand or could understand what your average depressive person goes through. I think I might be writing this to explain a bit of what it is like to those who have no clue.

If you are not depressive imagine this:

A wasteland tortured twisted buildings long since rotted away. Sand and rot along with structures that no insane architect would come up with in his wildest schizophrenic dreams. In the center of this lovely world sits a black pit. Not a big pit just big enough for one. Inside this pit is me. The walls of the pit are a thousand glass shards, tiny bits of sand like glass that push into already open wounds. Looking up all that can be seen is a tiny hole where light should be. Instead there is only swirling oil slicked darkness.   And remember this is a good day.

No I am not goth nor do I enjoy being unhappy. I don’t read maudlin poetry or listen to singers whining about how horrible the world is. Actually I think the rest of the world is quite nice but I just don’t live there. No I am not suicidal, although I have been. Yes I wouldn’t particularly mind being hit by the 4:10 bus filled with school children as long as it hit hard enough to kill me and scar the small children for life (no I don’t like small children). Death wish yes suicidal no.

I should probably make the point that if you know someone who is depressive these ramblings might help you understand a bit of what they are going through. If you are depressive you might realize that you are not alone. I am writing this for those two reasons. The further a depressive is away from distraction the further they are away from remaining alive. There is so much that most people don’t understand about the illness. There are so many people who say incredibly stupid things like “cheer up” and “it will get better.” I can almost guarantee that those truly depressed people you say these things to really want to slap the person saying it.

The point is you can’t cheer up. It does sometimes get better for a little while but in the back of your mind you always know it comes back.

I understand no one will read this and I understand that those that do read it will most likely not make sense of it but it is worth try.

Ok so today was a restless day. You know one of those days that you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. One of those days when you realize that your friends are not really your friends, your boyfriend is a matter of convenience, and if you could you would scream. You know I don’t scream. I don’t start screaming because I might never stop. I know in my heart and in my mind that my depression will eventually kill me. When I take my medication in the morning, afternoon, or night I think about taking all of it all at once. I don’t and I probably never will but the thought dances at the corners of my dark mind.

I wonder what it would be like to be normal and I wonder what it would be like to be somewhat sane but that wouldn’t be any fun would it. Normal and sane people don’t get to experience what it is like to want to die, to crave it, to think about what it would be like to just slide into oncoming traffic.

Some people wonder why a child is killed or why a horrible car accident killed a mother forever depriving her children of her love. I wonder why can’t that be me. I wonder why people who are killed every day are picked to die instead of me. The mother of the two children in the car who dies is needed in this life.  The mother with the husband waiting at home did not want to die right then. I do. So why not?

This gets into the question of why do bad things happen to some people and not to others. Truth is I don’t know. If someone wants these things to happen to them then why not pick the people who want to die and kill them. I guess that is just because most people don’t want to die. You can debate this point on so many levels of religion and philosophy. It is just like why isn’t there a secret society matching up rapists with those who want a rape fantasy. You would think it would work out for both parties but life doesn’t work that way. Not in this moral everyone be nice everyone be happy society we live in.

Anti-depressants    check

Sleeping pills      4 today insomnia is a bitch

Antianxiety         3 today life is really a bitch.

Today nothing much happened, nothing much changed. The fear inside me is just creeps around my body making me feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I live in fear and today was worse than most. It is funny how people judge worth. Is it what someone else says, what you do in life, what you say. Who you hurt or who you try not to hurt.

Despite the drugs sleep is just not going to come. I got half of what I set out to accomplish done today but who cares. No one sees what I do or what happens to me.

I reach out for help and get told that it is all my fault. It just makes things worse when someone screams at you for feeling bad. Need to find a decent paying job for student teaching… gods what ever made me think I could teach.

There is only so much more of this that I can stand. Even with the medication sleep does not come easily and tonight the fear I won’t wake up on time is paramount

The hole is closing around me the tightness is almost more than I can bear. Thank god I am not claustrophobic. The shards of glass cut deep but the pain on the outside is nothing compared to what is inside.  I think that is why people cut themselves and why I used to. It is something controllable something that I can feel and know its real and there.

I am gonna get locked up sooner or later.  On a positive note I think I can finally get some sleep now.

Ok today was exceptionally good and bad. Took my friend to the doctor which is a good thing. Not sure how I feel right now. Drugs are starting to take affect…or is that effect I never know the difference. I briefly pulled myself up out of the hole to take a look around.

Suicide is not chosen; it happens when pain exceeds resources for coping with pain.

Some people will react badly to thoughts of suicide, either because they are frightened, or angry; they may actually increase your pain instead of helping you, despite their intentions, by saying or doing thoughtless things. You have to understand that their bad reactions are about their fears, not about you.

These people do much more harm than good.

No one outside of us, nor we ourselves, can accurately determine our risk for dying by suicide. It cannot be determined on the basis of attempts we have or have not made, and it cannot be determined by totaling up the number of our warning sign conditions. The longer it lasts and the worse it gets, the greater the likelihood that we will die.

Now that that has been said this is what I have found for all of you who are reading this to possibly try to understand someone who is clinically depressed and does the ever horrible thing of calling you.

If you feel you have to call someone in to “help” chances are you are making this person’s life worse. If you don’t call someone and the person commits suicide it is not your fault. A person who is suicidal will kill themselves regardless of what you do. By not making things worse for them by calling the wrong person, you have just possibly extended this person’s life. Calling the wrong person at the wrong time only puts more pressure on the person who is suicidal. This might not make sense but I am not a big believer in the “it’s for your own good philosophy.” It’s not for my own good it is for your good. It is so you don’t feel the guilt of not calling someone.

This brings the question can a truly suicidal person be saved by medical personnel. The answer to that is no. If someone really wants to kill themselves they will. The fact that they called you is a good sign but not the sign that you need to seek medical attention for them. Now I am not saying if a person calls you and tells you that they have just taken 100 sleeping pills and a bottle of tequila not to call an ambulance. First make sure that that is indeed what they did. If they did then call the ambulance.  Make sure that they did. If they didn’t and you call an ambulance then you have just made things worse.