Tag Archives: psychology

Result of sexual assault pt.2

 As I post this I want my readers to know how sorry I am for not posting last Monday as it simply slipped my mind. In reconciliation I am posting the prequel now and the next essay tomorrow. Thank you and enjoy.

The confessions of a monster
The night he turned me

As a dreadful story is about to be told. There must be a dreadful weather to go along.

Raining, nearly storming outside. She sits on her bed, not cold nor scared. She lies warmly in her blanket.As she cuddles into safety she drifts off to sleep. Little does she know of the fate that lies before her. Will she remember at all, of the girl she was before?

One step two steps, a few steps taken quietly. In the blackened darkness along the hallway. One step two steps a few steps and his in the doorway. He sneaks in, his in her room. Staring at her as she lies in wait. He sees her calmly beauty. He lusts and trusts her body. He knows she’ll want this, he knows she’ll be happy, he knows she’ll understand him and he also knows she is asleep.

He gets excited by his choice, he drops to his knees, aside the bed he sits. The duvet lies limply over her thinly body. His hand finds its way under the duvet. His hand brushes her thigh. He stops to notice she is still in a deep slumber. He moves his hand he slips it into her pants. He knows now his come too far to turn back. With courage he must continue the ritual of turning her.

He touches her, he begins to massage, and it feels so good she thinks, yet in her sleep she is clueless. He begins to rub, forming circles around her cunt. He cannot stop, it’s all he hoped for. He goes faster and faster. His eyes grow wider and wider. He stares at her beautiful face, he is so sorry now. He is a monster. He has come with purpose yet his ready to leave only with sorrow.

She turns her head to face him, her eyes gently open. Say it isn’t so, she knows what is happening. He jumps up and tells to go back to sleep. His eyes are in terrifying shock. He runs out the room. One step two steps he sneaks back to bed.

She just lying. She just wondering. She wants to sleep she is so tired. Tears are forming, her eyes are soaking. What now she wonders. The tears are falling her heart is breaking, she is so confused can someone please save her. Is there any light out there? Please someone help her.

The darkness, for the first time, has never been so empty. Her thoughts are blank, her body in shock. What more can she do then stare into nothingness. She listens to the pouring rain, she use to believe it a beautiful thing but, now it’s only despairing and it will forever remind her of this night.

Just then an angel appears. An angel of gold with white light emitting from it to brighten the whole room like lightening would. Her heart is beating fast as she stares at the angel’s striking eyes. She knew it, she knew she lost her life tonight and the angel is here to fetch her. To free her soul of this horror. The angel will lift this girl’s burdens and fears off her shoulders.

It comes closer to her. Her eyes shut tight to keep out the bright light. The angel kisses her gently on the mouth. She never felt such softness nor believed in such gentleness and it would be the very last time. As the angel pulls away slowly, away with the angel goes her soul. She is left in her room, as an empty shell

Never before has she felt like there was a dark hole inside of her. She is hollow, she has lost everything good in her. She will lie in the darkness and cry and cry, for the angel to bring back her soul.

But until then, she will wait. And as she waits, the hole will grow larger and deeper. She will become more lost as time goes by. She will be alone, she knows, she will have no love, she knows. This hole she will try to fill with exhausted love and tired want. She is a dead girl, she can dump anything inside her, good or bad and she will lose it to the dark hole.

Now she sees herself, just like the pitiful monster that made her, she can only fill the whole with abuse. Constant, ongoing and relentless manipulative abuse.

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Is abortion like Death Row?

Arguments with my old bi polar self.

Have you ever thought of the fact that abortion is like death row?

Death row is absolutely refuted against in many countries (States). And yet we are willing to kill an innocent child.

Being bi polar where the world is black and white, no emotion to spare for another, I believed in abortion. Better the child does not exist than it suffering the hardship and turmoil on earth. Why would you wish anyone who could not live a privileged life a life at all?

What about Shakespeare almost being aborted. So what? Another person from a different situation would produce the same work and who knows, maybe even greater. I believe this is true as history provides that at any given time if someone is thinking one thing in America, someone else completely unrelated is thinking the same in Australia. (Charles Darwin)

However in truth when it comes down to a person who has the right to think and absolutely every right to ‘free will’. Every person’s situation is different and everyone will react differently, and that is what changes the world. So do we have the right to abort a human? Religiously speaking there is no excuse for aborting a child, “God will provide”.

I think in terms of preventing a terrible life with a drug addict man or an alcoholic Mother, what’s the harm really? But many young woman have selfish reasons. Working woman or single ladies or even teenagers. What gave you the right to take away the best kind of being from walking this earth? What gives a person the right to pre decide the fate of a child?

Furthermore this child is innocent and did nothing to deserve such a painful ending. Yet a convict on death row should be given a ‘second chance’. Really? They get a second chance while babies don’t get a single try at their own lives.

A so called foetus can be aborted up until three months. Three months in the stomach means the baby developed feeling and thoughts. The baby knows its mother already, it can feel when the doctor is ripping it a part as it kills the child.

It seems extremely sadistic to me.

However as previously said, every situation creates a person and that person will achieve something or the other. With free will and opportunity. In a democratic world, or attempting to be many have opportunity.

If you look at any argument, there is ‘for’ and ‘against’, and neither is right or wrong. Because every action has a reaction and it makes no difference, we in a world of motion and continuous change.

I am against abortion because it seems sadistic. I am against death row because it isn’t our right to kill anyone. That in its own is against a law that everyone agrees to.

But all opinions are subject to change.

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Cry Like a Waterfall

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It starts the same every time. I sit and lie on my bed thinking of how painful it is to live. How a life can be so hard for some. I know they have a purpose. I know everything in nature has a pattern and meaning. And often amounts to something great. but it’s so hard. Their lives have maybe more importance, or maybe just the same as people who are doing well. No one has a perfect life, but some lives are just so much easier to live. Thinking about the fames in warzone countries in Africa, trickles of water rolls out of my eyes and along my cheek. Here we go again. Im going to cry and cry. The world won’t change. Why do I need to cry? I feel worse after anyway, with a stuffy nose and puffy eyes. The salty tears increases, I’m definitely crying now. I shift over to my dressing table and stare into my painstaking soul. Why can’t I save the world?

 I watch the abundance of tears that flow out of my eyes. I imagine myself as a huge beautiful mountain. With little bits of jagged edges. Dark shadows below the light green trees. And bright white flowers growing from in between the cracks.

Towards the end of the mountain is gushing water. Flowing rapidly over the protruding rocks at the bottom of the mountain. It’s beautiful and perfect. White and bright blue sparkling water against shades of brown of the mountain. Like a painting, a masterpiece I am.

As I cry and cry hoping it will help, I realise: “Oh dear the mountain is drowning.” Surrounded by water that rises a centimetre daily. Slowly, slowly this mountain will no longer be. A huge eye, formed by the edges of the mountain, is crying, water pouring over the rocks. The mountain is drowning itself. Consumed by its own pain.

Nothing helps. Not tears. Not knives. I cannot help myself. No one can help me. A dark room a dark world, the pain just increases day by day. I can hear the cries of millions of people. Ringing in my ears are the struggles of children. Children younger than me in worse situations.

Rocky mountains stand beside it. Dry and hot. But taller than ever. My masterpiece my beauty, is just entrapment. No hands to wipe the tears. No legs to run away. No resources to save the world.

But wait! This amazing scenery makes the world happy. People are happy to see such beauty, furthermore this mountain has a purpose. It grows flowers and trees that help the earth. It creates shallow gushing water so bears can feed on fish. And don’t forget the adventure seeking river rafters, they love rapids.

“Wait what are you doing?” A voice in my head asks. “We sad right now. Don’t try to use that positive shit on me. I’m not happy. I don’t want to be happy. I’m feeling down, down as low as the waterfall, falling to my death. I’m not making up positive thoughts in my head. That just irritates my sad. My sad needs to live and be expressed.”

I am a mountain: Isolated, immovable and eventually non-existent.    

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And Away I go

Unfortunately for me, some of my best experiences includes the most dangerous situations. It’s the thrill of it all, it’s just amazing.

 

Loud music blaring in my ears. I stare up at the ceiling as I lie on my bed. There’s no use to this life. ‘Oh goodness, not this ol’ story again” a voice in my head says. This ball of disgusting thoughts that I beat against a wall every moment of every day, I’m so sick of it! But what’s the point? I am who I am. And as usual I won’t do anything well, anything constructive.

I get off the bed and as I put on my shoes I think, tea and biscuits, then out on the road for a long walk to the mall. The mall is about twenty minutes away, but about 5 if I had a car. Right in this moment, if I had a car, I would just crash it. What fun. I wonder what would happen if I was in a car accident?

I walk down the passage way, slowly, staring at the walls. Watching my own motion by watching my shadow. I enter the kitchen, it’s too bright. Silly fluorescent lights. They annoy me. Depressed people don’t like brightness, it hurts my eyes, and makes my deliriousness worse. But I stare at the light. I have super powers you know. I’ll stare down the light and before I know it’ll burst into smithereens.

After my eyes begin to water I realise that, my powers are just a bit week today. I have tea to make anyway, no time to fight with the earth. So I flick the switch on the kettle and as the water begins to boil I pull out a mug from the cupboard and a tea bag from the canister. Just before the water is finished boiling, I run to the fridge and fetch the milk. I pour in the hot water followed by the milk. Perfect, all ready.

I take a quick walk to the lounge in a hurry to drink my tea and go for a relaxing walk.

As I sit and try to control my breathing. But, it’s like breathing is nothing. If I just stopped right now. Will it be so bad? I hold my breath, as my eyes close and my mind blanks out. I hear my heart racing, trying to survive. I can hear my life trying so hard to exist. I don’t want to exist! Why can’t my body understand that? I want to end it now, quick and painless.

I hear drizzles against the window. I jump up, run to the kitchen sink and drop my glass gently enough not to break it. My eyes open wide and my smile resembles that of a sports champion. I walk over to my room with a quick little skip in my step. I find my ipod, and I’m ready to go outside.

I feel the gentle drizzle upon my face as I step out of the house. This feeling I get from the rains reminds me of deep thought. Of my ability to dissociate. My philosophical self, my lost self and as far as I’m concerned- my true self. I love the rain.

I take to the streets, and see the beautiful shine on the tar caused by the rain. I’m getting wet and its cold, but it’s just all so beautiful. There’s a slight chill, the wind is cold against my wet body. But I love the feeling of being touched by nature. As if it were wrapping itself around me, holding me tight and showing me a world I’ve never seen before. Nature loves me, and I love this earth more than anything.

Coming closer to the main road, I bring myself out of the clouds and concentrate on the roads I’m crossing over. I try so hard to focus on the real world but, I just can’t. Whenever I’m here I have to run away in my mind. I’m here but I want to leave, what is the use of living? My carefree demeanour quickly changes back to depression. Heavy eyes, no sight of a smile. I see black, I feel empty, I’m scared.

The robot light is go green for the cars. I look left and right to check for cars. I see one coming at quite a speed.  Staring straight at this huge red 4×4, as I walk across, calmly, thinking I’ll make it across in time. Trrrrr! I hear the ABS breaks stop right in front of me. I look to see large bull bars nearly smashing through my ribs. Looking up I see the shocked face of a driver. I just stare. And continue walking. It made no difference to me. Life’s just as it is. And mistakes happen I guess. I carry on listening to my music and skip through the rain. Thinking of how cool it is that I survived. My silly body, it always wants to live.

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Survive, suicide,survive,suicide.

Research and constant logical analytically reasoning is just how I survive. Therefore, once again I’d like to share another found fact. Well fact based on experimental research. Many attempted suicides of bi-polar persons includes unconscious actions. According to the research, they found that bi-polar subjects had been in many coincidentally dangerous situations. This example also goes for self-harm.

Fantasy always follows us

I don’t understand. How is this image so clear? My imagination has certainly surpassed my own expectations.

My head turned to the seat next to me. I stare wondering on, why is it so real. I literally feel as though I’m staring back at myself. This is like the movie ‘The Black Swan.’

I wonder, why is she here? Does she have something to say? Speak up. I want to know why you’re here.

Although I know she is not real, my gut tells me to believe. To believe what I see. To seek truth from this girl, she knows more than me. My life is a book of deception but, she sees it through untainted glass. She knows my story.

But why won’t she speak. I stare straight into her eyes, seeking insight. But nothing, it’s blank. She is Surviving, existing, but not really living. She’s just visiting. A ghost wafting about this earth. Knowing more than any of us. She has the answers. She- she just won’t tell me!!

Tell me why am I here. What’s wrong with me? Help me. God please you have to help me. Save me from myself. Give me anything to hold on to.

I recede my pleas, and turn to look out the window. I know the silver lining. I always see them. And right now, I am alone. This battle is mine and so are these answers I seek. I have no ties to people, I am truly free. I can do what I want and I’ll be too oblivious to care about anyone else. I’m too busy surviving this life. Its hard work, but I’m free. I’m not scared, especially not of death.

Next time, a story of unconscious attempted suicide.  

 

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Domination and power

Previously: I came to school In a mood ready to destroy something.

Beautiful shiny pin straight hair, tied in a high pony. I wonder, will hurting her hurt her ego? Oh, I forgot, I don’t really care. Why do I always choose a girl? Well not always. Okay

so I pick on guys more, because opposite sex games are always easy. Fun too.

She’s clever, I know this because of her outstanding results.  I walk over to her and ask: “do you think you can help me with my math homework?” with a bored look she replies; “I don’t think so, unless you want to meet after school. Did you complete the homework for today?” Obviously I didn’t I just don’t care about homework. I begin my body language techniques.

Push out my shoulders confidently, and lean relaxingly on the desk. I grab her attention by eye-contact. She feels rather over powered already, and this is just the basics. School kids, they’re so vulnerable. Well lucky them, I don’t know what being an innocent child feels like.

I say quite sweetly, but my piercing eyes beg to differ: “would you please help me with that before class” I held eye-contact to make her quiver. I’m not that scary but, I guess she just felt obliged to help me since I’m a classmate.

We sit in tense silence. A tension I create by being dominating. Sitting as though the chair should be honoured. I sit and wait. Wait expectantly for her to do something. Next thing I know, she pulls out her math book and says: “why don’t you just copy my assignment and I’ll explain it to you later”. “Great!” I say loudly. She didn’t even smile as she handed me the book but, I smiled gleefully at her. “Thank you very much” I say.

I put the book away, registration class is over, now for the first period: English. Since I’m terrible at English sentences and all the basics really, I have to concentrate in class. This concentration and focus thing I’m experiencing, it only happens once in a while. That’s why I need to take advantage of this.

As I walk down the corridor I realise I’ll be too busy in English to copy the math. I walk up to anonymous one and tap her on the shoulder. With a naughty smile I say to her quietly: “guess what I have? The maths assignment, I’m betting you didn’t do it either?”

She laughs and says: “of course not! Oh my word you are amazing, how did you manage to squeeze that out of miss-goody–two-shoes? Despondently I reply “I don’t know” I shrug” I guess she was in a good mood.” As I use my ‘guilty’ ‘you owe me one’ card, I say in a pleading voice “Could you please copy the math work into my book as well? As I really need to concentrate in English period.”

She looks at me astounded. Not wanting to agree to this deal. But feels she doesn’t have a choice: “oh yes sure” she says hesitantly. I keep quiet but, with a small innocent smile and calm demeanor I look at her; giving a signal that she made the right choice.

After my incessant changing and confusing people between my dominating and sweet nature, I switch to something different. The truth is, I think, I can’t carry on like this, it’s a terrible thing to do, I am a terrible person. And I’m tired anyway. So I close off and become dissociated. Completely careless of my life. I don’t know what’s happening around me. I keep my distance from people, I’m in auto drive, and my sense to converse is dead.

This despondency I give off to people especially the classmates who did my homework for me, causes them to think I used them. I did, but then tomorrow they won’t help me. Toward the end of the day, I force on a smile. Something I’m so use to faking. And I hug them tightly as if to say you are just the best person ever. And to each of them give a gracious humble thank you.

As I walk over to the car I think. Stop doing this. Stop being evil. Stop using people for fun. You don’t need to be evil to survive. I promise you dear you can do your homework. You’re clever and capable.

I sit in the car feeling the motions, it perfectly describes my life. As I sit and stare out the window, thoughts run through my head that worry me, I have to change my ways, but I need to know how!?

I enter the house and don’t even bother with

and I’m out for the day. I’ll wake up in 5 hours from now. I know myself too well.

 If you confuse them they’ll never know what to think. The sad thing is, I don’t always control my confusing moods that I give off to others I’m erratic and you’ll never know how ill behave next.

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Bi Polar is like schizophrenia?

 

A deeper Look

I have found according to research found in recent scholarly articles that they cannot find the cause of bipolar disorder. Studies showed that a bipolar person is not bi polar due to their circumstances. However, a person’s bipolar may flare up due to unstable living conditions such as, abusive parents or socio-economic status or alcoholic/drug addict parents.

Further research shows that bipolar is a similar case to schizophrenia. That is, schizophrenia and bipolar are most likely due to genetics. I know that they have recently found the specific gene that makes someone schizophrenic, and can perform an operation to remove this gene. If they had the gene to remove bipolar, if the ’genetics theory’ is true, would you give up bipolar?

I find it’s as if you removing a part of you. Well if I was schizophrenic than definitely, that’s a lot harder to live with. But regarding bi polar? Than you may as well call us all sheep. I think the medication keeps us sane and yet capable of being different all at once. But then again I have only been on medication for about 4 months. I haven’t even had a relapse as yet.

Everything I look at is the colour red. My peripheral vision is absolutely blur. Im focused on my target. I zoom in like it’s a videogame and analyse:

Pillow. Soft. Indestructible. Safe. Bang! I hit my fists against it. No satisfaction, I try hitting harder over and over again. No satisfaction. I need to ruin something, disintegrate parts of the earth. Make sense of our worthless existence. Make sense of the fact that death means nothing. Living is worse. But why would we still choose it. Why don’t I ever die?

BREAK THE F!*@EN WORLD!! Running around in circles in my room. I have no idea where to go and what to do. I cannot cope with being me, I desperately need freedom. Like a bird in the sky, or a wild wolf on the prow. ‘I’m going to hurt someone, I’m going to hurt someone’ I repeatedly say in the back of my mind as I try to think of a clever way to ruin something on this earth. The most fun is always people. They somewhat easy targets, but they’re the best, because they’re a challenge. Psychological and philosophical theories put in to practice by me.

My life is like a page out of Charles dickens books. Grey c obblestone and dark mist. A world filled with abuse, pain and unfairness. I drop to the ground as I motion my arm to stab the ground. Blood spits out from the ground and I scream, “I hate this place!”

“Oh please” says my ‘mrs Logical voice’, “you hate the entire world, not just this place, stop pretending this is the root of all your problems. Now get up and carry on with your life.” I begin to stand up from the ground when my eyes jerk forward, for me to realise that I completely zoned out. I find myself standing at the centre of the school, completely disorientated.

I carry on, as if everything is normal and meet my first possible target. Anonymous one smiles at me as I walk close, but all I think of is pushing her against the wall, holding her by her throat and telling her that’s she’s a flirt and a slut. Anonymous two stand beside her and smiles at me too. She’s not a worth playing with, this is a game of wits, she’s just an ant that’s easy to flick away. After sharing smiles and friendly hugs I enter the classroom. With a coolness to my walk, I drop my bag beside the table and sit on my seat.

Focus. Target. Attack. I found her. Watch me play this all day!

A story of how ‘how to win friends and influence people’ was like my bible, in the next post, get posted via email!

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