A Short Sabbatical

Hello to my living fallen angels! I got discharged from a psych ward for the millionth time the other day. I tried to commit suicide once again. I overdosed last week and I was sure that I would finally die this time around because I took a lot of pills and chased them down with some cough syrup. I’m very disappointed that I survived but I know there’s a small part of me that is glad I did. If I honestly 100% wanted to die, then I could jump in front of a train or jump off a certain 11-floor building… It turns out that I kinda wanna live. I was overdue for a vacation and my local psych ward was just the place to unwind and heal from the stressors that make up the majority of my existence. I made a lot of great friends at the hospital. It seems like the mental health system is where I make all my friends worth staying in touch with. I don’t have much in common with Normies (people who were never in the mental health system and are therefore deemed “normal”) so I tend not to establish friendships with them. I realize my light side is just as influential to my life as my dark side is. I have a lot going for me. I’m pursuing a career in Psychology through college. I work as a suicide hotline operator (ironic, isn’t it?) and that opens the door for joining Recovery University, where I can further indulge in my chosen field. I want to be a mental health psychologist. That way, I could still be in the ambience of the hospital without being a patient. Two distinct halves of me learned to balance in equilibrium. One being that “if I ever found out I had cancer, I honestly would feel relieved.” The other being that “we’re all human subjected to trials and tribulations and I can’t find it in me to hate or hold grudges against anyone.” Anyway, now I’m just trying to get back into the grooves and patterns of my everyday life again. I love you all, my fallen angels! We are doing the best we can! Have a wonderful day! Over and out.

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One Bad Day

I sat confined within the metal bars compressing me to a condensed version of an ambivalent world. Psychologist-infested daily routines didn’t always comprise my life’s entirety. It only took one bad day to rid me of my innocence forever.
Shadows spilled underneath my cot, behind the rusted toilet several paces away, and they ran away from the fluorescent lights twitching out in the corridor.
Red eyes glowed at night to accompany the darkness I fed earnestly throughout the day. It was an effective way to lose weight.
Years passed and so has three in-mates that took the pleasure of being my roommate. It came to the point where my past branched off into infinite alternate realities. That happens when you reach a certain age. Memories evolve into better or worse things depending on your mood.
I haven’t been outside since I moved in. The normies in their hospital scrubs always shut out the outside because I don’t deserve it anymore. All the other Malvolos lost their rights to freedom too, they kid around with me.
At a certain time of day, the leader of the normies announce from the walls that the lights must go out. We retreat back into our catacombs while being driven out of the community room like cattle.
I don’t bother talking to the other outsiders because I sleep alone regardless. Nothing new happened since The Assault. So I laid in the dark letting the last remnants of my eluded past reframe my dreams once more.
The Sun always radiates as bright as I remember. Maybe it was a tad bit brighter back then. The birds chirp as they perch themselves onto the trees my mother constantly refused to cut down. Her baby blue car is warming up in the driveway. My older brother (always was taller than me) sits in the front seat while my mother says her goodbyes to my stepdad. She is plotting against me with him. Then she glances at me, massaging her back and leaning on her scepter, and asks me if I’m positively sure if I want to stay at home instead of going with them to the local supermarket. I assure her that grocery shopping with her was as boring as school.
Then suddenly it’s nighttime and I skip forward past the awkward stage of puberty into the fathoms of adulthood. I’m closing up shop. Putting away spare boxes into the complacent shelves. I walk up to the entryway door to transform the “come on in, we’re open” sign to the “sorry, we’re closed” sign. But there’s this really sexy twink knocking softly on the glass. I yell out that we’re closed but he insisted on coming in to talk to me. He wants me to do it to him, I’m positive.
So the car drives itself away like fate so anxiously wanting to lay down its foundation. I give a quick smile to my stepdad just to be polite before going into my room to play some videogames. But that smile I flash at him is a green light for him to pursue me.
I lead him to my office in the basement where I let the cobwebs materialize out of thin air. The young man looks so happy with his manila folder (most likely holding his resume) gently against his chest. He says he heard a lot about me from the press and assures me that he wants nothing more than to work for me.
I just want to go home. But he sits down across from me. He unzips his white jacket, beckoning me to admire his physique. Then he carefully hangs his hoodie on my coat rack. His shirt is a v-neck. The young man has tempting-looking chest hair. It is more than obvious that he yearns for my touch.
He knocks on my door and told me to help him clean up the house to surprise my mother when she gets home. I reply if he pays me money, I’ll do whatever he wants me to do. My stepdad giggles playfully as he barges into my room and unplugs my game console. That is the last straw. He answers my unexisting plea to take away my virginity. It sucks cus the least he can do is pay me afterwards but sometimes he doesn’t.
I get up soon after the young man sat down to lock my office door for privacy from my employees who went to their respective homes an hour before. I tell him that I’m not currently hiring at this point in time but I can reconsider if he admits he’ll do anything if I pay him to do it. I stole his smile. A scared expression is left behind on his face while I tear his smile off his porcelain face.
Masturbation had lost its fun since I no longer had an audience. The buzzing of the night light kept me up all night long. I didn’t sleep a wink. I crack myself up sometimes as my laughter fills the empty void. Just when I think I lost my mind entirely, I lose it a little bit more. I can no longer plant this seed anywhere other than my bedsheets. My bed wanted me to cultivate this undead garden, hardening along with the red eyes across the room reminding me that I had an audience after all. A sexy doctor peeked into my room, beckoning me to take his smile away from him too.

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“Life is unfair” and other clichés

Good afternoon to my knowledgeable fallen angels! Lately I’ve merely been writing poems but now we can get back to my warped views of the world. Okay so let’s begin. I hate when talentless people like Kim Kardashian or Honey Boo Boo can become rich and famous. However the most wise, powerful, and multi-talented people such as myself, must settle for living off paycheck to paycheck completely unknown by the world at large. Life is unfair. Typical catch phrase amongst the adolescent society. It’s funny how true that statement is though. I have to work my ass off just to make ends meet. It would be a miracle if I ever do become discovered. Resilience, integrity, and prodigal wisdom isn’t good enough? Ignorance is bliss is another cliché I like to use. Sometimes I wish I didn’t know the things I know about life because it’s just so damn disturbing! To unsee what I have seen. To undo what I have done and what others have done as well. Like the fact that a lot of things that happen in the world is out of my control. Virtually everything is. I want to help people but they never listen to my advice when they ask for it. Then don’t ask me for advice in the first place! That’s so frustrating! But I realize that some people come to me to just vent and not for me to tell them what to do. Helping others is a lot like parenthood. People usually learn the hard way and you gotta let them find things out for themselves. You gotta sit there and listen. Refrain yourself from speaking out your own opinion because it won’t matter anyway. You must love them, no matter how many times they screw up or yell at you or run away. I witness my family and friends suffer in their miserable lives. I hate to admit it, but everyone’s suffering, including me. We are all fallen angels for we are suffering yet we should all be there for each other. This is why I’m going to college to major in Psychology. I care about people and psychological help can inevitably prevent wars and chaos from incinerating the world. Others must be brave enough to ask for help and reach out for support. I acknowledge that we all have our trials and tribulations, that we are all fighting our own internal wars. I will do anything humanly possible to save as many people as I can from destroying themselves and each other, including myself. I don’t care how long I have to stay in college or how many degrees I must earn. I am adamant on saving this world to the best that my limited power can withstand. Yeah, life is unfair. But at the same time, I am very content with my life. I’m single with no kids, living alone, going to college, working out, and staying alive regardless of how much I wanna give up sometimes. I must work even harder to achieve my goals than stupid bitches who were born into wealth like Kim Kardashian. I started from the bottom and I’m sure as hell getting to the top. When I do earn my own fame and fortune, I will appreciate it and I will be grateful for it. I will earn my fame and fortune because I will work my ass off to get what I want. Nothing can stop me. Have a wonderful day from the Arcangel himself! Over and out.

How Stress Affects My Memory

An example of a tough life includes antidepressants and lots and lots of therapy. It was the psych meds that really altered my mind in ways that both were beneficial and harmful to my overall psyche. Although my formally prescribed “crazy pills” helped me a lot to deal with my traumatic past, these same pills drastically affected my memory. Out of all the topics we have discussed in class, I relate best with chapter six’s Memory. People in my life notice when I’m under stress, I tend to forget a lot of what they tell me. Forgetfulness has been an issue for me so often that I am sometimes afraid it will impact my daily life for the worst. The good thing about antidepressants is that when they are taken as prescribed for a long period of time, bad memories tend to be harder to recall. The bad component about psych medication is that it makes it harder to remember things that people say or do that would otherwise be very important to look back on. Repressing negative memories is usually hard to do with the average person but I feel those meds were a blessing in disguise.

From 14 to 20 years old, I have been prescribed to take many kinds of pills that specialized in improving my psychological flaws. This selective memory, I like to call it, makes it easier for me to focus on being positive and moving on from the catastrophic anomalies that makes up the majority of my life. I see people all around me talking about the same topics in their miniscule lives that they spoke about years ago. I say let it go. Whatever may make someone angry can lead to tendencies to hold grudges or act violently. I guess it is easier for me to let things go because I usually forget what makes me upset to begin with. I speak for myself though. Resilience comes to me naturally. Living my life the way I do makes me think of a kind of correlation. The less I can remember, the easier it is to not sweat the small stuff and keep my eyes on the prize. By that standpoint, I guess it is safe to say memory plays a huge factor in the overall wellbeing of anyone. However, I acknowledge the fact that that correlation only applies to so many things. Having no memory at all would be terrible as well.

It’s wise to establish a happy medium within yourself. Another comparative statement comes to mind. The good is never easy, and the easy is never good. It’s great to be able to discard bad thoughts but it wasn’t easy to train my brain to acquire that ability. The same way it’s effortless to do something that you regret or to let your guard down by not being cautious, but it’s difficult to deal with the repercussions of unfortunate events. The other day, my brother tells me to pack the following night because he wants me to sleep over his house later on in the week. Sometimes words do go in one ear and out the other. I completely forget writing that down or packing ahead of time and then I end up saying, “Oh yeah! Sorry, I’m busy and I got a lot on my plate. I will get to it right away.” So I have my brother waiting for me outside my apartment in his car for the millionth time so that I could ransack everything I need for an overnight stay in under five minutes. It’s funny how often that happens. Understanding the difference between memories worth recalling and memories best left forgotten is one of the problems that I still work on to this day.

In retrospect, the concept of memory is very intriguing to me because I understand it in a personal level. Separating short-term and long-term memories as well as bad memories from the benign is a challenge to everybody, not just me. Antidepressants made my internal struggle with maintaining memory a bit easier to deal with. However, it also puts me in an unusual state of mind. I love who I have become regardless of how much I focus on training my brain. It’s rigorous and exhausting to attempt time and time again to remember things that would help me just as it is to push away the negativity and move forward in my life. I take it one day at a time. Hopefully one day, I will gain the mental discipline I need to repair my memory. I believe the key to life is to always work on improving yourself physically, mentally, spiritually, and psychologically.

Another’s Perception

Good afternoon, my resilient fallen angels! Today I’m going to discuss the concept of differing perception. What may seem like a huge deal to you may not have any effect on someone else. Dating is a easily explainable example. Love is blind. You might be dating someone, putting them on a metaphorical pedestal for all the world to acknowledge. Little you may know, however, this same person you have such high hopes for is not as angelic as they may seem. Friends and family are constantly telling you that he’s not good for you or that it would be best to break things off before it’s too late. “Before it’s too late…” What does that even mean? They see him for what he truly is, someone less than worthy, someone not meant to stay for long. A side character that an author would eventually kill off. But the praise you give him clouds your judgment. Who knows? Maybe your loved ones are wrong about him. They don’t know him like you do. Perhaps they are jealous and are attempting to sabotage your relationship. Maybe he is an angel sent from Heaven to save you from yourself. I’m speaking facetiously, of course. No human being deserves to be on that pedestal that you have constructed to be so sturdy and so supportive of the great weight he places on your shoulders every waking moment of your life. I might have gotten on a tangent just now, but my point is that any aspect of life you can think of can be viewed in many ways. Besides love, differing perception plays a starring role in anything. Recently, I did something embarrassing in the presence of my family. The event replays in my mind on repeat. Little did I know that when I slipped it into a conversation with my brother, I realize he forgot it ever happened. Something that you obsess over may not even phase anyone else. Because he forgot what happened, that means that it was not a significant enough memory to store in his mind. I’m taking a course in Psychology this semester. I’m starting to think I should major in psychology. Matters of the mind are so intriguing to me. Open your mind and acknowledge that there are many sides to a story, an object, an event, a person. Don’t ever don the qualities of a narcissist because you inevitably close your mind from ever realizing that you can learn something new from anything you think you fully understand. Or that you have flaws you need to work on improving. Take constructive criticism into consideration rather than taking offense to it. Walk in your enemy’s shoes or even your most closest friend. Try to contemplate how others see the world. Have a wonderful day! Over and out.