voltzen's Xanga

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Tue, 15 Jul 2008 18:03:26 GMT

...hello?

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Wed, 12 Mar 2008 11:35:42 GMT

sweet apathy,
    more precious than love and joy combined...
      ...there is no come-down,
             simply peace of mind.

wishes

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 04:51:39 GMT

...a poem i wrote a few weeks ago for my soulmate...

for all the sorrow and bitter tears
for flaring rage and paralyzing fears
for broken shards of shattered dreams
for unseen torment and unheard screams
for the pain of facing another day
i made a wish life would go away
so long and hard i wished to die
still i lived though i didn't know why
but i decided to give life another chance
and gave my wishes a different stance:
for all the love i never knew,
i made a wish... and you came true.

my personal descent into hell, and subsequent ascension to heaven

Sun, 24 Feb 2008 01:50:11 GMT

it's been awhile... i guess i'll start this with a quick summary of the past year:

august/september/october/start of november 2006: misguided relationship, made the wrong decision when i had two guys to choose from, made the wrong choice and ended up with an overemotional, weak, clingy, loser with a severe gambling problem. doing massive dosages of pure dxm powder (up to 1500 mg daily), among other substances- this drove me to the edge of sanity, and the stress of having to pretend to feel love when i couldn't even feel my heart eventually pushed me off.

end of november: had a major psychotic break. altercation with family involving a 12 inch hunting knife, ended with me demolishing a steel door and my dad drivng me to a hospital and literally dumping me out of the van and driving off, telling me not to come back home until i got help. being insane at the moment, i ran off into the surrounding wooded area and hid from some people on the premises with flashlights, my delusional mind telling me they were hunting for me. i had some obscure notion that i was a lion and humans were the enemy. i evaded capture by climbing trees, crawling on my belly through mud and leaves, etc, and eventually made it to the streets where i stayed about a week, sleeping in this empty factory/warehouse place i found in a desolate part of philly. a lot of other things happened that week but this is merely a summary. it was pretty cool and exciting at first. until sanity began to break through the mental fog and i realized i had a family to get back to. i went home only to find restraining order papers, which threw me right back into a psychotic rage. broke through the window, attacked my mom, she called the cops and smashed up my stereo (my most prized possession at that time), hitting me in the knee with the hammer in the process, cops carted me off to the hospital, where i stayed a week.

december 2006: on account of my outstanding ability to lie convincingly, i got released after only a week in the psych ward. however i'd been so focused on escaping there that i didn't take into account that i had no place to escape to, thanks to the restraining order and paranoia of pretty much my whole family. i guess i can't blame them for that but i can blame my dad for setting me up to be arrested- he told my mom to have the police waiting, after which he drove me to the house so i could "get some things" to make living on the street easier. yup, he seriously was condoning a life of homelessness, poverty, and in all likelihood, prostitution, for his own daughter. but this is the same guy who pulled a gun on me when i was 16 so it's not that surprising to me anymore. anyway, long story short, i drank almost a whole fifth of vodka he had bought for me, then when he locked me out of the van and nobody'd let me in the house, of course i ended up breaking through the front window. i'm not trying to put the responsibility on somebody else here, but it was below freezing outside, i had only a thin long sleeved tee and jeans on, just chugged a bottle of vodka, and had nowhere to go. once inside, cops showed up within minutes, one cop yelling in my face like a drill seargeant telling me that i was, among other things, just being "an ASS!" and that she had no pity for "crazy jackass drug addicted punks" like myself, while i tryed to refrain from either laughing in and/or vomiting on her face. one cop simply shook his head and said "this is getting to be a habit with you, isn't it?" i recognized him and a few others from previous incidents such as the lead pipe standoff of 2006. i said in the most sincere tone i could muster that i just wanted to go back to the hospital, but miss drill seargeant informed me that i wasn't "getting off that easy this time." i spent a month in prison on a list of over a dozen charges ranging from contempt to criminal mischief to aggravated assault and possession of an 'instrument of crime.' wtf do they mean by instrument of crime, anyway?

january 2007: after pleading and asking nicely for a month for my parents to post bail didn't work, i moved on to threats of arson and physical harm whenever i finally did get released by the system. i don't know if that helped my case or not, but they finally did post bail on new years' day. i was still in exile though so my dad put me in a motel until he could no longer afford it, then convinced me to give this rehab house a try. i stayed there a few days, then called him up and essentially told him he could shove this rehab crap up his ass, and either find me somewhere else to stay, or expect to see me on his doorstep again. he took me all over philly until we found kirkbride center. for the first time in my life, i had to lie to stay in a psych ward, the irony of which was not lost on me.

middle of february: wore out my welcome at the psych ward- i believe some of the staff were catching on that i wasn't quite as disturbed as i wanted them to think i was, and when they called the number i put on my paperwork i'm sure whoever picked up at my parents' house informed them that i wasn't welcome there. the doctor that worked with me came right out and called me on my bullshit, saying basically that i seemed like an intelligent person trying to play dumb and exploit the system. i guess the look on my face gave me away, because within a week i was released. at least he helped me out by talking with my mom and convincing her that i wasn't the violent maniac she may have expected me to be, and also convincing her to give me another chance.

march 2007: check email at public library, find an email from the other guy i had considered back in august 2006, end up trading numbers and talking on the phone. this is a landmark event that only seems important in retrospect.

april/may 2007: one relationship disintegrates as another shows potential, i come to a slow realization that i may have made the wrong choice. i notice emotions emerging where only apathy once resided, and come to realize the startling fact that i may still have a heart after all. by the middle of may i'm fully convinced, and kick the life-draining emotional leech to the curb, hoping that the constant obsessive compulsive phone calls and letters and unexpected (unsolicited) visits will stop shortly thereafter.

june through november 2007: each day adds conviction that i finally made the right choice. each day also brings new and stronger emotions, and as time goes by the wounds of the past heal in ways i thought they never would. i evolve and gain strength, though in spite of every instinct telling me it's safe, i hold myself back a little since i've learned from experience that when something seems too good to be true, it usually is.

december 2007: i start the month with something i never thought i'd have the strength, or desire, even, to do- i burn everything from past relationships. pictures, letters, anything combustible, all fed to the flames. the sense of freedom, strength, and overall positive emotions that were unleashed while i watched the flames consume all the tainted memories are indescribable. i have not since regretted it- the present renders the past meaningless anyway. i don't regret the past though, though i suffered immensely i feel it merely served to teach me and make me worthy of what i have now. on december 19th, i finally got to reap the rewards of patience, loyalty, and true love. this was the much anticipated day a man named Scott flew into philly from kansas.

...and happily ever after... or at least until my next entry... heh.

disconnection

Thu, 20 Jul 2006 16:55:04 GMT

i've been through so much yet at the same time i've made no progress whatsoever, i'm exactly where i was a few years ago, but now with a lot more wounds and a lot less time to heal. the burning sense of urgency and pressure to do something i felt so long ago just kept building up.
lately it became too much to handle and so i replaced it with this question that keeps resonating in my mind:

why deal with the world when you can make it disappear?

it seems that everyone i once cared for took off in a race that left me behind in the dust, kicking around the shards of broken dreams, taking breaks only to intoxicate myself into a state of indifference towards the whole "life" situation. i've spent the last 8 months trying to pull together whatever shattered pieces i could, using whatever addiction i could distract myself with as the glue to hold all the pieces together. the arrests and mental hospital stays definitely didn't do a damn thing to help improve the situation any, either. and now, catching up with the life that was once so close is impossible, and the thought of trying is too overwhelming to consider.

things were just supposed to be so radically different than they ended up.
once upon a time i had dreams, goals, and the ambition to attain them. but those all left me behind, too.

and yes, i know all of the above seems hopeless and pessimistic.
yet i can't fathom a reason to give a damn.

a little apathy can go a long way...

i don't know what to make of this

Sun, 09 Jul 2006 22:29:41 GMT

for the past few weeks i've been blocking the world out, i've made myself somewhat invisible...
i neglect all my friends.
i don't speak.
i don't go out.
i go days without sleep only to crash for up to two days straight... and i'm not even taking any drugs right now.

i've done this before and the distance tends to freak people out.

the part that freaks me out isn't the isolation though.
the part that freaks me out is the intensely realistic, recurring hallucinations...

a few nights ago i was in my bathroom when the long, thin, strip of razor i'd previously broken out of a disposable razor (sharper than safety razors) caught my eye. i suddenly found myself transfixed by it. i felt paralyzed. then, i saw myself pick up the razor, bring it up to my mouth in the mirror, place it inside my mouth, and swallow it. i then felt myself being cut up from the inside out, the razor slicing up the inside of my throat as it made its way down to my stomach, i could feel it going all the way down, intense pain overwhelming me, then i blacked out for a moment...

...i realized i was still just standing there, motionless, staring at the razor. i could still feel it inside me though, and a sudden wave of nausea hit.

i was afraid to move.
i was afraid of what i might do.
i was afraid i would actually swallow that razor blade.

eventually i just went downstairs and sat in front of the computer, feeling physically ill, staring blankly at the screen for a few hours, as several people sent messages to me, none of which i made any effort to respond to.

have i finally lost whatever shred of sanity i had left?

its soul is missing...

Mon, 26 Jun 2006 19:05:55 GMT

he spoke to me.

after all these months of absence... all the noise in my head in spite of the dead silence from him... all the hell i've been through...

he spoke to me.
but he's not him anymore.
i don't know who he is.
i don't like who he is.
he's nobody.
a fucking hollow shell of a human, a ghost of his former self.

he doesn't even remember who i am, he only knows me as this demonic identity that his drug-fried schizophrenic brain made up. not only does he not believe i am who he knew me as, but he doesn't even believe i'm human. i don't know exactly what he thinks i am, he wasn't making much sense when he spoke to me.

all i know is, he hates whatever it is he believes i am.

i don't know if he meant to commit suicide that night.
but i know he successfully killed himself on the inside.

since the end of october last year, after he overdosed and went fucking insane in front of me, i was ripped away from him without ever getting the chance to say goodbye after i spent over 24 hours trying to stop his convulsions and violent suicidal actions, i've been to numerous psych wards, strapped with leather restraints and such, i've been to jail, gotten into physical altercations with police, been involved in a police standoff after my mind snapped from all the stress, been slapped with restraining order bullshit from his failed excuses for parents who blamed me for everything... not to mention all the hardcore substance abuse of anything i could get my hands on to make me forget and become somebody else for awhile, and all the deep scars (some of which i very nearly bled to death from) that now crisscross my forearms, and all the other shit i did to escape...

all that, and the single most traumatizing thing i could have experienced was this thing i'd been craving most since i was torn away from him.
the thing i thought i wanted more than anything turned out to be the thing that broke me. because it forced me to accept the truth.

he's gone.
he's dead.

the only person i ever cared about is fucking dead and i feel like i killed him.

i want to hate him and part of me does.
but mostly i just want to erase him.
i want to erase him and all the memories tied to him...
...even though that would mean erasing the past decade of my life.

his silence towards me has finally been broken after all this time, and all i want to do now if put it back together again but i don't know how.

i feel like i need to forget all this shit, but i realize the sad truth:
trying to forget somebody you love is like trying to remember somebody you never met...

mein geliebst dextrodemon

Fri, 02 Jun 2006 05:45:40 GMT

64 pills over a course of 24 hours...

it sucks to be human sometimes... it's nice to know i can always count on good ol' dextromethorphan to kill that annoying human emotional reflex. nothing feels better than being numb, emotionally and physically. apathy truly is the closest thing to euphoria i've ever experienced.

dxm ist mein perfekte droge...
auf wiedersehen, gefühle!

zu meinem löwe...

Tue, 30 May 2006 02:35:10 GMT

it seems that the thing i crave most desperately is always hiding right in front of my face. for the second time in my life i found perfection and didn't recognize it, so i pushed you aside to pursue other people, thinking the way you made me feel would come naturally with whoever i was with.

i'm writing this to you now, to tell you:
i was wrong.

i wasted so much time trying to feel things for people i could never feel anything for, while you were in the background waiting for me to notice you again. i was on the edge of believing i'd never again know those feelings i knew once long ago before you, and i was sure i'd never care for anybody ever again.

but now i know:
i was wrong.

you brought yourself back to the forefront of my attention at a crucial time in my life, when everything was chaotic and i was losing control. i went insane and instead of accepting your offer of comfort i made excuses to stay in the fucked up situation i was in.

third time's a charm:
i was wrong.

then came a period of apathy, a calm before the storm, then on the inside the storm broke out and on the outside i broke down- a severe mental breakdown, an emotional breakthrough, all of which resulted in several fresh scars... and then, came revelation: i remembered how i felt before all this: that sense that i could easily grow to feel more for you... that maybe, i already do...

...this time,
i'm not wrong.

reversal of fortune!

Wed, 24 May 2006 20:11:22 GMT

well things have been pretty damn turbulent lately... i've been through so many changes lately, jumping from one extreme to another... i was deeply confused, angry, depressed, apathetic, manic, etc, almost all at once. i had a series of major emotional breakdowns, outbursts, and revelations, and finally i listened to what everybody seemed to be telling me. while my life always seemed pretty normal and mundane in my eyes, it seemed as though i could get nobody else to agree with me here, in fact, everybody seemed to go as far as to say that my life would make a best-selling autobiography.

the pressure just became too great, especially after one person even offered to help me edit. i stepped back and took a good hard look at myself from an objective viewpoint, and realized, holy crap everybody is right. you can say a lot about me and my life, but one thing you gotta admit is that it's been one hell of a ride! so, starting last night, i got my ass busy and started working on my autobiography.

it's coming much more naturally than i anticipated, which is really encouraging. i've found that through writing, i'm achieving a sort of inner peace and i guess you could say i'm actually pretty proud of myself for once. so far i've already got a working title (no holds barred: a brutally honest autobiography), a very rough outline of the chapters, an idea of exactly how i want it written, and i've completed a few chapters already (chapter one of part two, as well as a few for part one), and the dedication. keep in mind i've only been working on this for a few hours total, as i started just last night and i actually got a good nights sleep before i picked up where i left off.

writing has really become very therapeutic to me, and is helping me 100 times more than the court ordered therapy ever could, and let me just add here, to those who have so much faith in the psychological industry, i have never consumed a single pill of that depakote crap that was prescribed to me. even when i was trapped in the confines of a psych ward, i always, always cheeked my pills and spit them out, i never consumed a single damn pill of that brain-washing drug. if i'm gonna consume a mind altering substance, it's gonna be one of my choosing, such as dextromethorphan or heroin or something along those lines. so, in your face, medical community.as of the past few days i'm the most well adjusted person i've yet to meet, and i have only myself and the encouragement of true friends to thank for it!

i think one thing that helped me in my resolve to actually go through with this, was the feedback i've gotten from people on this site. the understanding and encouraging words really meant a lot more to me than the people who left them will probably ever realize. so, thanks for that, i suppose.

i'll keep you all updated on the progress with my book, thanks to all my readers and supporters.

tschuss ~ voltz