I've been feelin especially suicidal lately mostly due to medical problems. It's hard that I've worked on this crap for so long and finally, finally found the right mix of meds to help me and now I'm forced back into this endless cycle of crap. I'm just so tired.
This next bit isn't terribly descriptive, but it does out right speak about a suicide <mod edit - method> that has occurred and speculations about delusions. Please be cautious if these are triggers for you.
In other news, I've become obsessed with the actor Jonathan Brandis who <mod edit - method> at age 27. My chest keeps squeezing whe I think about him and look at his pictures. Even worse, I feel there's a part of me that used to belong to him. It's like his soul died before his body and part of it got funneled into me when I was born. Part of the stardust that made up his conciousness is now mixed with mine. Or maybe we were just made of the same stuff. The same vat of "depressed actor with strong eyebrows" was dumped into these blobs of flesh that grew into corpses. The more I think about him, the harder it becomes to deny my feelings of connection to him. With my new breathing problems it's hard not to think about how he died and how I feel that I must also die. The questions I think about his death are terrible and I'm struggling to determine what's morbid curiosity and what is my own desires of death being masqueraded as curiosity. I don't know if I've just hit the delusional stage of whatever other mental illness I have or if everything I've ever done is genuinely effected by this dead actor. It goes against all my beliefs of science and logic. I mostly find the concept of souls to be ridiculous, but now mine feels as though I'm nearing a truth of been searching for my whole life.
This next bit isn't terribly descriptive, but it does out right speak about a suicide <mod edit - method> that has occurred and speculations about delusions. Please be cautious if these are triggers for you.
In other news, I've become obsessed with the actor Jonathan Brandis who <mod edit - method> at age 27. My chest keeps squeezing whe I think about him and look at his pictures. Even worse, I feel there's a part of me that used to belong to him. It's like his soul died before his body and part of it got funneled into me when I was born. Part of the stardust that made up his conciousness is now mixed with mine. Or maybe we were just made of the same stuff. The same vat of "depressed actor with strong eyebrows" was dumped into these blobs of flesh that grew into corpses. The more I think about him, the harder it becomes to deny my feelings of connection to him. With my new breathing problems it's hard not to think about how he died and how I feel that I must also die. The questions I think about his death are terrible and I'm struggling to determine what's morbid curiosity and what is my own desires of death being masqueraded as curiosity. I don't know if I've just hit the delusional stage of whatever other mental illness I have or if everything I've ever done is genuinely effected by this dead actor. It goes against all my beliefs of science and logic. I mostly find the concept of souls to be ridiculous, but now mine feels as though I'm nearing a truth of been searching for my whole life.
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