dec 28 2015

[prismaticbleed]

god, I hurt all over.

it's terrible that we think that doing something bad to ourselves before someone else does it to us counts as saving ourself.
that's wrong.
that's sick.
that's sad.

that's too sad for me to bear anymore


i can't take this anymore.
it always happens after therapy, you notice?
our therapist has one bad habit: leading us into assumptions.
she makes a guess and talks like it's the absolute truth and since we don't want to be rude in contradicting her, we get angry. and scared.
and then we go home and self-abuse and WHY

because, because we were talking about THAT TOPIC.
that horrible topic that we TOLD HER we didn't want back in our psyche
damn it
DAMN IT.
I'm sorry. we shouldn't be swearing.
but I hurt so bad inside.

and outside

god help us this is why we stopped caring about self-preservation a while back

the brother keeps loudly declaring and threatening suicide
almost as a knife, to scare and manipulate other people
even if he's obviously hurt and hopeless enough to consider it
you don't use it as a weapon.

meanwhile we're quietly wasting away
no longer caring if people see our damage
no longer caring how much of a mess we are
all over the place
just… gradually dying.
slow, quiet, resigned suicide.
we just stopped trying to live any longer, really

and that's the saddest thing
because we WANT to live
but

but inside.

not like this.
not like this

we still can't see a future.
we tried. god we tried, the first jayce THOUGHT he saw a future, but it was… it's… it's actually still the only future we can fathom.
wow.
think about that for a second, actually
here I am saying "we have no future" because I'm looking at the BODY
I'm imagining this dead-end blank face and body and IT HAS NO FUTURE AND NEVER WILL
but jayce, pinstripe, the willows, they imagined this body and face changing, shifting to something safer and more accurate and realer,
and suddenly we could EXIST, we could be a real person, in the world, surviving…
…that still applies.
we could have a future if we stay trans. if we continue to change to neutral in the absolute best possible future. either way we could keep going.
not like this.

and that's the problem.
we've been identifying with the body too much lately, either through fear or depression or force.
and it's killing us.
we've been trying for years and the bottom line, the 100%-of-the-time truth, is that with this face and body, WE CANNOT SURVIVE.
in this face and body, we are self-abusive and hateful and hopeless and empty.
IT NEVER, EVER, EVER CHANGES.

god help us
the worst fronters ALL LOOK LIKE THIS BODY
and it's so damned hard to constantly consciously overlay just to function when outside social triggers keep making us lose that focus and therefore dissociating immediately.
god have we talked to the therapist about this?


the whole body hurts
jewel is in that state of hypershocked denial that comes with the inability to process a worldshaking terror, something too awful to cope with. she's numbing out and we're TERRIFIED because they've been trying to hurt her for years, and if SHE gets hurt permanently… god, will we be able to create anything at all?
it's been so difficult to do anything art-wise for so long now, with all this trauma… jewel was the only real person we knew left who could push past that with steady optimism and childlike wonder, real childhood imagination, untouched by the terror of adulthood…
…I think that's the issue.
this jewel, the one who is panicking today, is the one who's about fifteen. sixteen, tops, and even that feels way too old.


we're listening to the new hiatus kaiyote album and that's at least helping us take our collective mind off the pain and shock and nauseating terror.

god who can we talk to about this
we're so tired of asking for help on tumblr, we're afraid people just roll their eyes at us, "drama," etc. remember what happened when we used to run the archive blog as a personal update thing? we nearly shut down for months from the amount of anon hate we got. all claiming we were fake attention whores. it makes my stomach turn just thinking about it now.
but we're so bad at social interaction. god knows we've tried, it just… it's so draining, even when we love people, we're so bad at conversation, it just drains our batteries in seconds. we can write, but we can't speak. we can't make eye contact but we can still focus on their hands, just as raptly.
but it's so hard to reach out and "talk" because of that. when you don't have any social experience, and you desperately need some sort of human interaction that ISN'T abusive or terrifying or obligatory or impatient… what do you do? how do you even go about finding that?
and how do you keep it safe once you find it, if your own face and voice are those of the enemy? when your reflection and words are those of your adversary, of your nemesis, when you look in the mirror and see an abuser, when you laugh and hear the trauma happening all over again, when your very fucking body betrays you with its own panicked reactions…

god this is why we forget we even have the chance of a future.
when you're this wrapped up in horrible-body pain and terror, it's hard to see the true you. it's hard for anyone to even front like this, just like when the body is literally ill, because the amount of jarring sickness is so intense that it mangles everyone's overlays, that we can't figure out how to even process such an alien sensation… let alone trauma flashbacks, let alone abuse symptoms. when the body is that wracked by such mind-shatteringly terrible things… no one real can front, because we cannot let that into ourselves.
so the bad people stay out. the suicidal, abusive, careless people stay out and front, because they match that vibration, because they exist on the same level as that feeling of worthlessness and disgust and numbness and shit.
and the abusive cycles continue, because those girls feel that such suffering is all there ever was, all there is now, and all there ever will be, and the can't see or feel or even comprehend otherwise, and so they just never stop perpetuating it out of sheer despair. they're so crushed and empty that… we don't know what to do.

taking care of the body is tough as a result because it's hard for any of us to get out there and do it, when the body IS so sick. god it's been so sick lately.
our only hope is staying up until awful exhausted hours of the morning just to dissociate into a computer screen and forget we have a body and exist in floating space and suddenly we CAN be happy, we CAN be hopeful, we CAN dream and plan for a GOOD FUTURE, one without further abuse or objectification or fear or apathy…

…that's why this hell happened today.
there's one girl in the system at large, not jacinth but close, who has one goal in life and that is to "become a sex toy for some girl." we’ve talked about this shit. it's an obvious abuse consequence mechanism, motivated by the thought process of "sex is the only "love" I've experienced and I feel totally unloved/unlovable so that’s all I can get and it's all I'm good for anyway." you know the drill. it's heartbreaking and enraging all at once.


jeremiah was out, for a few minutes,
laurie was trying to calm him down, he was full of agony and rage,
every damn lost person in the system forgets that no matter WHAT they do, we still SHARE A BODY and every damn thing they do to hurt it eventually reaches the children.
and jeremiah exists to take that pain away from them and it's entirely a sacrificial role, he cannot cope with the reality of the pain but he takes it on anyway because at least then the children will be safe from it.
god it's awful.
and laurie was trying to help him and the body heal fast, somehow, but she didn't know what to do either, and she looks so hopeless lately, her colors keeps graying out, god we're so scared but the fright is so intense we only feel it as numbness.

we don't feel much anymore, not like this at least

this is a bad night.
I want to just listen to this music.


we used to be able to write music like this
then we started sacrificing ourself for god knows what reason
losing our links
annihilating the
the

you forgot that, didn't you

annihilating any possibility of creation in you
destroying your creative ability through sacrifice, through sabotage,
through letting the liars convince you that "that's all your good for"

letting them kill your children, jewel.

and not in a fcking motherly way either, to hell with that and whoever told you you HAD to be that can go jump in a ditch,
not really, I don't wish anything bad on anybody but I'm so sad and angry,

murdering your leaguechildren.


and jewel just screamed in anguish.


yeah.
you forgot, didn't you.
we forgot, didn't we.

our entire body is a graveyard but it hurt so much after so long we just
turned into a zombie of sorts I guess,
not really alive anymore, not really feeling anything,
as more and more headstones kept appearing, as more and more abysses were dug.


god we cannot handle the weight of that truth.
it would kill us.
facing it is instant suicide.


we want to die,
if that's the truth we want to die, we cannot live like this,

but it is the truth,
but the new cores don't carry that weight,
but the old ones do,
but burying the past doesn't make it disappear,
but we keep switching to abusive alters and perpetuating this hell and WHY

WHY

WHY THE HELL DO ABUSE VICTIMS TRAP THEMSELVES IN THESE CYCLES
WHY THE HELL DO WE FEEL WE DON'T DESERVE ANYTHING BETTER
WHY THE HELL DO WE FEEL THIS IS ALL OUR LIFE IS WORTH
WHY THE HELL DO WE FEEL DAMNED TO JUST RE-LIVING THIS SHIT

why the hell
we feel so damn broken, so damn ruined,
ashen's wretched wail,
"I'm ruined, I'm RUINED,"
that's how we feel.
like we're just… damaged goods now.
like we're not worth anything anymore.
like we should just give up now and live like the trash we are.
like we don't have any other choice because you can't fix something this destroyed.

we feel like garbage.
so we treat ourselves like garbage.

at least, the girls do.
at least, the body-tied fronters do.

the internal people don't

how can
can they stay out all the time?

yes, if we're alone, and NOT IN THE BODY,
and that's the damn problem.

it all boils down to this body.
it's a jail cell. it's a torture chamber.
it's the place of every abusive incident we've ever endured.
it is a living trigger.
within this thing, we live every second in a walking reminder of exactly what horrors it endured, of every memory of it,
it stores ALL that shit,
god what do we do


we want to die.

we don't want this body anymore.
that's all it boils down to


I'm so tired and I want to sleep but
this body is just,
god it feels like we're possessed. it really does.
we can feel the old girls in here like we did as a kid, like the first jewels did,
like the one they
…
like the one they pushed to self-destruction today
she was just trying to take the chance away from them.
"break myself before they break me."
god isn't that a sad, desperate gambit for control over one's fate.

but it happened
and I want to sleep but not with those bitches cackling behind my shoulder
"the body is ours, bitch, look away for one second and it's ours again,"
and I know they could do it,

and laurie is screaming and sobbing at them upstairs,
god I wish we were back in school so we could just dissociate all day and fight inside, fight fight fight, we could live,

it's so so so SAD how the days when we could FEEL anger and fury and hatred,
were the days we were better people.
at least, on this level.
we fought back. we showed no mercy. we were furious. when hackers showed up we took blades to their throats and we killed them as many times as it took. we were soldiers of blood and righteousness but it never… it never felt entirely righteous. there was too much blood.

now we're brighter, softer, better, really… really, in the real way.
but… the catch is it's so hard for us to fight back anymore. because we feel that bloody rage surging up and we're so afraid of what would happen if we surrendered to it again.
what do we do?
what do we do when the enemies are all inside????

god I don't know.
I'm so damn sad. we all are.


…

and I just
opened a window and
saw this post



god I cant take this what do I DO

WHAT DO I DO??????


I'm actually considering the psych ward again of all places, god,
god I'm so terrified, what do I do,

I just want to weep.

I just want to weep.
this poor wretched ugly filthy body is so broken, it never asked to be like this,
it terrifies me when I wonder if we manifest our damage,
if our guardian angel's face changes according to our actions,
it terrifies me that ours has always worn a helmet.

it has beautiful wings,
it's all raging light and amorphous robes and divine staffs and it's hard to even look at straight-on,
but you never see its face, just burning light smoking from the holes, like an incense burner holding a bonfire.
is that good or bad?

I'm so afraid.


we want to treat this body kindly. we try, when we have the nerve.
but it's so hard when… when the bad girls take advantage of that.
we do have good days. we do try. we do try to turn this body into something kinder, into something that's NOT evil,
but,

but at the end of the day there's usually that lingering fear,
"are we ruined forever," "are we eternally broken,"
no matter how many times we go to confession will we ever get this stain off our backs?
will we ever really be free from the shackles of this sin?

the priest told us "god forgives and forgets,"
it was the biggest feeling of freedom ever,

does
does he forgive us now
for
screwing up so bad?

it's so hard to forgive a sin committed with "good intentions"
because then it feels like you're forgiving the goodness
and then I don't know what's right or wrong anymore.
how do you "forgive" someone who fucked up horribly but meant well????
how do you forgive that
I don't understand this yet.

but god does
god can forgive anything
I hope.
god I hope so.
a lot of people told us otherwise, and that haunts us daily.
if we really are broken,
and if that really is true…


…

god I don't know.
I really don't know anymore and I'm terrified and sad and I don't want ANY of us to sin anymoer but she had "good" intentions even if they were busted up horribly and she was trying to do SOMETHING I have no fucking idea,
it's like,
getting a new car and smashing it yourself just so no one else does and kills you in the process,
does that make any sense?
it's twisted and mangled but it's the same motivation as all these lost hacks.



it's all obligatory thought processes and they all belong to that one damned numb social who just smiles at everyone,
it's sick and heart-wreckingly sad to realize that SHE was the faces of most of our social interactions in the past,
she was in that room with q, just smile and nod, smile and nod,
god if we had just spoken up for ourselves we wouldn't have hated him for YEARS for doing something he didn't realize was terrifying, that was too close to abuse, because we NEVER SAID A DAMN THING ABOUT IT TO HIM,
we forgive him, we forgive ner, we forgive all of them, they did nothing wrong, we can't even find a single strike against them anymore, thank god, thank god, it took long enough,
but
but someone remembers the static
and then that numb-face smiler girl comes out again
"well I should do that too"
and there's a paralyzing shrieking terror right beneath her words
but she's blind to it.


that's how we end up in these awful states.
we’ve been pushed too far for too long,
we've heard the same bad things over and over and over for too long.

you spend enough time screaming at mirrors that "you're a goddamned fcking whore" and you start to believe it, you start to become it, because after so long you're convinced it's true, that there's no other option, that being called as such has made you such,
god I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for hating them so much that I made this worse
I just
don’t know how else to express it.

they acted like whores so I called them whores,
I
didn't realize it was keeping them like that.

god it's so stupid, I'm sorry,
what was I supposed to do, call them good people when they were being AWFUL??????

or do I act like jay
and not stand for their shit
but don't hate or hurt them anyway?
what does he do
he tries to talk them into becoming different, into seeing another way
but what if they don't listen!?!
what if they LAUGH at you and SPIT in your face and ATTACK you when your guard is down?

jay says "then get out of there" but is face is strained, he's hurting,
how can you chance an alter that bad?

"change their anchor," laurie says.
redefine whatever they're springing from.
completely rip out their roots without even telling them about it.
rip out their evil roots and plant a different tree, cel says.
you can do that up here.


god, headspace is so beautiful,
I actually want to live when we're up here, when we're in here,


and all of a sudden I feel light,
and the body doesn't hurt and it doesn't even feel like we have a body, we feel like a cloud,
and for a moment I can feel a road stretching onward and onward into a future of pure white light,
and for a moment nothing is broken,


but we can't see through the eyes when we're like that.

we really should just join a monastery at this point or something
the grind of daily life is so spiritually exhausting
but. isn't that the point,
to bring that lightness of being INTO daily life?
so no one has to feel trapped anymore?
you show them a way out, you MAKE a way out, you make a change, you plant the seeds,
you offer hope.
that's the point of us fighting these demons day after day and not dying yet, because in the end we want to be a lantern leading the way out of this certain hell for anyone else struggling in it yet.

that's all.



we need to be kinder to the body even if we don't think it deserves it.
remember flowey. think upon that.
no one is born evil
no one is born broken

and maybe everything can be fixed?

headspace is magic
I'm sure we can find a way guys
I'm sure we can.
me and jay will figure something out, just watch us. I promise.


we can do this.


we'll wake up in the morning and do better.


we'll
we'll forgive and forget too
so we can walk again.


no one deserves to stay down in the dirt.
there's a hand offered to everyone.
that's all I can say.


up here, there are a lot of hands.
that's reason to live enough.





Regret less the knot yes I give you the end to hold
And through darkness and earth wet I seek through the land to mould
A woman that rests night and day, sweat and tears unfold
To undress the burdens that caress the blessed I’m told