Grateful not to have a penis

You fit quite perfectly next to me. I’m distracted though, my body wants to be intimate. I can almost taste the want. I’m gonna kiss you, maybe it will help me. You are drugged right now and sleeping. But I’m gonna turn you to me, I just want to feel a body rub on my skin. Thank you for responding to this. I’ll let you sleep. Maybe if I touch myself I’ll be able to calm down. It was a slightly long day and someone else turned me on. I’m glad you understand I am a sexual being. Can I share you? Can you share me? Can I see you get undressed by someone else? Can I watch you fuck them? I wanna see how a person looks when they are momentarily out of this world. I think I’m burdened with the need to give love  to people. Me, you, them…do you trust me? My skin is burning for a touch, the sensuality of skin against skin, the feel of a tongue on my finger, the pulse against my lips when I bite your neck, that first feel of the wetness between your legs…your darkness, feed me your darkness, let me see your demons, them and me is all I want. Just for tonight, let them feed from me, let me show them my appreciation for comforting me during my darkest times.

I went for the walk. I left the house without a word to anyone and kept walking. The moon was bright, beautiful, mysterious and I asked it to be my guide tonight. I started listening to the latest Frank Ocean album and kept walking. I was receiving messages from them asking where I was and if I needed company. I wanted to be alone, I did not want to return. I wanted to keep on until my legs hurt. I had no money in my pockets, a little self conscious of not wearing a bra and being alone in the middle of the night. But I was not afraid. The guilt was bad though. I just wanted the pain in my chest and the shaking of my hands to stop.

I wanted to sit down with a stranger and talk about life while we watched the moon. I was willing to distract myself with anything. Thirty minutes later I had ignored the calls but I replied some of the messages. One ate at my heart,”For better or worse?” Then they reminded me of the word we were to be using when we needed time to breathe. I used the word.

Apparently my father had left the house to look for me around the area.  That somehow made me more upset than I expected and I felt like a brat, stupid child causing unnecessary anxiety. I told him I was okay and I just needed to breathe. I told myself if there was Hell, there was a special place for me. One hour later I was no longer shaking. I decided to turn back as I regained clarity of how deserted the road was getting.

I’ve always wished to be alone when my bipolar is erupting within me. I don’t want to worry anyone, to be seen so irritable, angry, frightened, uncontrollable and enmeshed totally in the blackest caves of the mind. I wasn’t like this a few months ago. I guess my illness is progressing instead of healing. I don’t want to be anyone’s worry and problem.

There’s something about having someone to come back to though. Someone who can calm you down. However, I am at the point in my life where it would still be okay if no one was there.

I’m sitting opposite them in the cafe and I can feel myself drowning. I can’t breathe. My chest suddenly hurts, I’m scared. Can they see me drowning? They do, and it scares them. They try to make me laugh. I don’t want them to feel like they need to make me laugh. The distraction is good though. But I feel the pain in my chest, I want more air. I’m panicking. I don’t think I’m supposed to be here. I don’t think I should be alive. My soul needs to be in another world. Nobody is ready for me here. My truth is overwhelming me. I was holding it together very well the last couple of days. I want my pills, I want those pills to make me forget even for a minute, an hour. ..forever? I want out of my skin, I want to scream, I want to crawl into a black hole, I want to close my eyes. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.  I don’t want to be touched, my nerves are ripping apart. The smells of food are making me sick. I want to break things, I want to run. I feel dangerous right now. My hands are shaking. Maybe I should go for a walk. Maybe I shouldn’t return.

To Myself, After I Was Diagnosed

You still remember the relief you felt when you were told you have Bipolar II. There was a name to how you feel. You called your mother, she was at work and you could tell she was busy so you told her the news and she told you to identify the triggers and the call ended. I’m sorry she did not call you back because she thought you needed the space to research on what your illness entails. I know it hurt you. You told the rest of the family and your father exclaimed and your brother asked if there was a cure. You went back to your apartment and did some more research on what Bipolar II is. It was good to see you find relatable articles that you could share with loved ones so that they could understand. Even though they did not read them.

Days passed,you started feeling overwhelmed. Why is this happening to you? Don’t worry,one day you are going to be at peace with it. You started seeing articles on how relationships do not survive a bipolar partner. Somehow you knew this was going to be a problem but you did not say anything. You told your then partner and she took it well,maybe. All the bookmarked articles that you read night and day overwhelmed you. You were not ready for so much information just yet. You were already feeling depressive and you felt like no one was on your side. You had your partner but you just didn’t want to bother her with how you were feeling. That made you more lonely and it broke your heart.

You went to the bathroom and you looked at yourself in the mirror. I could feel your whole being break and you felt so weak. You started crying, using the sink to support yourself. You went to sit on the bed and I’ve never seen you feel so much in one moment, asking yourself why you are like that and how lonely your life is going to be. The walls felt closer, it felt colder, the darkness so comforting. You fell asleep on the covers that night.

You depended on your partner for support because no one else could understand. I’m sorry you two did not make it. I know it fueled your suicidal intentions, you have never felt as alone, you believed no one will ever love you, you believed so many things and honestly you are going to struggle with them for some time to come. You did not have any more strength and suicide felt like the only way to peace. I’m sorry for the hospitalizations.

You are going to know who your true friends are, who will stick by you, who will try their best by you. You will struggle with when will their patience run out and being a burden. You are going to meet other patients and form friendships in the hospitals. Too bad the ECT (Electroconvulsive Therapy) is going to make you forget so much from streets to how to make food to where you hid your things and unfortunately some of the friendships you made at the hospital. Well you kept having the ECT after a day and whatever had happened the previous day would be wiped out so new situations kept disappearing from your mind making it hard to have a proper memory. Get ready, memory loss is not fun.

Today,2 months later, you are at peace with your mental illness. You know how to manage it, what to do and what not to. It’s still not easy,but it’s better than before. You have decided to face 2017. You have somehow met someone who is going through shit and for whatever reason the universe has, you two are able to see each other’s darkness and it is going to be the most comforting thing. You are still going to be scared because not many can handle who you truly are.

Keep fighting, even though you are still passively suicidal, take it one day at a time. Only you can protect you.


When my mind makes me physically exhausted

It’s been several days whereby my mind has made me physically exhausted. My whole body feels like I have done a 6 mile run and my head feels like concrete. During my research on depression I read that one does get tired because of fighting daily battles no one knows about. Now I am experiencing this fatigue and all I want to do is stay in bed. I do not realise how fast days pass or how long it has been since I took a bath. I have not had a decent meal (I have said this severally…I think).

I went to the beach in the morning and in the middle of my walk my legs did not want to keep moving. My pace slowed down so much and I wondered what the fuck is going on. I reached my usual spot,said hi to my two friends and proceeded to strip down to my underwear (which works as my swimming costume) and settled down to continue my writing. My head was killing me and I started regretting leaving the comfort of my bed. A few hours later I could not take it anymore and I lied down on the bench and took a nap. I woke up later, dressed and dragged my ass back home. All I wanted was my bed and the internet.

Daily battles with the mind is something I cannot explain to anyone. You are constantly trying to find the logical opposite of what you are thinking. At the moment I believe I am a burden to everyone and I do not deserve to be understood. I do not need to put up my depressing posts because nobody cares and I am only seeking attention. I am doing this so that people feel bad for me. I am trying to tell myself I am not doing any of these for anyone but myself because if I don’t write it out I feel worse.I am struggling to be able to keep talking about what I’m going through with my mental illness but this voices that tell me I shouldn’t,make me push away everyone. Everyone has their own life to live,as do I. Nobody needs to keep hearing how I couldn’t stop crying last night for no reason at all.

I have been trying to be honest with myself and letting myself feel this feelings without ignoring them. Yesterday I was watching some videos from a black lesbian youtuber Ari Fitz and one of them was on cheating. From that video I was able to resonate with a few things like how exactly I felt during my relationship this past year. I finally saw this break up as a blessing in disguise. I was not happy in my relationship for a very long time and my friends started to notice and tell me. I felt undesirable, unworthy and lonely. I always wondered if I am polyamorous and if I needed to find someone to love me on a deeper level emotionally while still in the relationship. But I believed I am not the type of person for anyone to choose me.I believed(still do) I was unattractive and I was lucky to even be in a relationship. This felt like a power play that fucked me up inside. So I held on, unfortunately. I was expecting the break up and I just wondered when it would come. I did not want to end things because I believed two people who loved each other can work through things and find ways to be with each other. The break up still broke me as I was at that moment not mentally okay. The last thing that held me together was taken from me,I was feeling betrayed and all this emotions started off the beginning of my suicide attempts.

Right now I am focused in finding who I was 3 years ago. That girl who did not care about being single and was a free spirit. I am alone now. Telling myself I am alone now means a lot of things to me especially in fighting my anxiety. This might only make sense to me but that’s okay.

I hope to keep finding strength.


Warning: This is a depressing post.

Since last night I have been rather off.I feel angry. I feel so angry and restless and sad. I found it hard to sleep even while reading or watching more YouTube videos. I’m not eating well and I don’t feel hungry. I’ll take my breakfast at around 10am and drink soda throughout the day. I am angry at my mother I am angry at my brother I am angry with everything. I  have asked my father to wean me off the medicines because they make me feel horrible. I told him I don’t think I can be helped. I hate seeing how helpless he looks after I tell him what I am feeling. Yesterday I went shopping with him and I saw this sisal ropes and I felt my heart beating faster. I checked the prices and refused to admit to myself that I am scared of killing myself but I know I can do it.

Right now I just want those pills I took the last time I attempted suicide. I’m craving a drug that will numb me from everything. I don’t want to wake up again.I’m scarred by the last attempt (literally, I have 4 scars on my hands where I was tied to the bed). This 4 scars always remind me of that night and how far off the edge I had gone.

I have not replied messages from 3 of my friends who are asking me if I am okay. I don’t want to worry anyone anymore. Please allow me to go. Let me go. It’s okay if I am called selfish, I don’t mind. I know I will hurt a lot of people who care for me. I wish I could feel the care and love.

Right now I just want those 60 pills.The feeling is so strong I just had to type it out, maybe it will reduce?  I will not call anyone like I did last time. I want to be alone.I want to do this on my own.

I go through this feelings daily.  I’m still here fighting to see another day even though my mind does not want me too.

Why we choose Suicide

“…I just didn’t want it to hurt anymore.”

What it’s like to lose someone to suicide


I was watching a YouTube video on Adwoa Aboah,she said something that made sense to me. She said she thinks she was born sad. I think I was born a sad person too and it manifests whenever it wants. I believe my aura is this sci-fi like ball of energy surrounding me and anyone who gets close to me is going to be affected in some way.

I have reasons to believe my energy vibes are quite different from most people. My friend tells me she can feel when my moods change, that my vibes are so strong you can feel them from a distance. Weeks ago when I was at home (it doesn’t feel like home anymore though) my mother came down the stairs and asked me if I was okay. I asked why and tried laughing and smiling. She said she just sensed something had changed and it showed on my face. I normally can’t fake my facial expressions and all the time I don’t know what my face is doing I just have to listen to my energy and I’ll know what my face is showing. I’ve had instances when I’ll get upset and I normally avoid confrontation so I stay silent. You will notice anyone who is around me will get affected and I honestly hate it.

I have become extremely self conscious about my energy. I try to avoid being around people because I don’t know when my energy will change. When I’m in good moods,definitely the people around me are okay and I am able to laugh and connect and make someone laugh and I can feel this lightness around me. Like I should just get a rope and start skipping because I am very happy. I say hi to strangers and make conversation,laugh with them and I wish them a good day.

The reason I am self conscious is because I can’t control my energy and I don’t want to affect anyone. I don’t want to make someone believe I have bad vibes as people say or I want nothing but good vibes around me and I go,” Well I better stay away from you because I don’t want you to read me wrong.” I feel things too much, I read into things unnecessarily, I am overly sensitive and all this plays into my energy. I can’t control it.

I don’t know how to start this post. So I’ll go ahead and say what I’ve been thinking about since my last previous post last night. I don’t like how my blog has turned into a negative space where I put what im going through. At the same time I do not have any other space where I can comfortably put up and share my not so positive experiences because I believe in sharing. Sharing stories and not being afraid to tell what is going on with you. No one is alone. No one goes through shit alone and I know it feels very alone while at it but I know I am relatable.
I am on autopilot. Watching movie after movie after YouTube video to distract myself from what is happening. I can’t let myself think. I don’t want to cry any more. I’m tired. My eyes are sore.
My friends have been in contact but I don’t want to talk. There’s nothing more to say. I have nothing left to fight for and my life is one of them. This feeling in my heart that it’s all done and the battle is lost..

Then again,with mental illness,theres the guilt that comes of feeling like there are those doing worse than you. There really are. And you make yourself feel more insignificant. The guilt is with me so I’m watching CNN and being updated on the battle for Mosul.