It's getting worse, not better. It's getting harder, not easier. The screaming gets worse and worse and I keep having these feelings that feel so foreign to me. Sometimes it's hard to remember that nobody else can hear it. Sometimes I can hardly hear myself speak over it. I've been good at not raising my voice to hear over it, but that's difficult. It's like trying to talk over music that is just too loud. But instead of music, it's more like I hear hell.
If there is a god, or gods, then they deserve my wrath as much as anyone else. Whether they are benevolent, malicious, or indifferent, whatever 'god' decided my fate has my utter hatred. I was happy once, but no longer. I was innocent, but then I was broken. Whoever allowed this to happen, it's their fault as well. If there is a god, I would see their temples burn. I would see their idols fracture and fall apart. I would see their religion die out. If I believed in a god, I would have someone to hate, someone to blame.
But I don't.
There can be no peace. I am resigned to my own personal hell. I sometimes wish I were never born, to have saved my loved ones the trouble of having to take care of me.
A person is defined by what they deny; their shadow shows more of their nature than any part of them that sees the light of day. What do I deny? What part of me is so hateful that I cannot even see what it is? What part of my mind is so intent on stopping me from confronting my own reality?
I have been losing time lately. Sometimes minutes will go by without my notice, and there have been promises made that I cannot remember. Sometimes I cannot remember half a day. My memory is worse and worse, and it's not just bothering me; my loved ones are increasingly agitated at my inability to make good on the plans I make with them; plans that I don't even know were made. Sometimes I feel like I'm being gaslighted, but I don't know why anyone would do that to me, so I mark that off as mere paranoia.
What is wrong with me? What is so wrong with me? Fuck, who am I?
I talked to my therapist, and he feels that there is a lot of dissociation happening. He is unsure of DID, and doesn't wish to pursue anything he is not sure is there. I don't know if that's what's wrong, or if there's another problem.
I can't bear to think about the future. I don't want to think about how much worse this could get. I don't want to think about how much I could lose if this goes on. I don't want to die.