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I did it.
I got rid of it.
It's not permanent, but it can't get me anymore. It can't feed off of me, it can't harass my sister, it can't visit us in our dreams. It can't send me spiraling down from a natural high, into a mental breakdown in a matter of minutes or hours. It can't suck the life from me, while no one in the room notices. It can't do any of that anymore, because of what I just did.
I was brave. My body aches, my hands are shaking, and fingers are rather close to blistering [I am careful with how I type]. I buried those bullets in the ground, I defeated the enemies along the way. I didn't expect them but I should have. Who knew a trowel could be such a good weapon.
A part of me feels like I'm overreacting, that my victory is small and that I shouldn't make a post on every social media site I have. But you know what? I was scared of this thing. It frightened me, and very few things do. It made me feel small and weak, but most importantly, it made me feel like I deserved it, that being host to a parasite wasn't such a big deal. So, it seems only proper to celebrate, to say fuck you, because I didn't deserve what happened to me. My freedom is worth celebrating.
I wish I could initiate part two of the plan, but I'm so weak. I don't know if I could do it, even if I tried. I've never really tried astral projection; I did try some as a kid, but never too seriously. What I did was enter more of a trance state, although it bore some similarities to projecting. Yet, when I listened to the audio clip, it sure was easy to slip out. I didn't even mean to but I was half way there, like taking off a glove. Perhaps my tranciness in my youth helped me be able to project easier, it helped me recognize that my body is a vessel for a piece of me, a facet... it not actually me, not all of me. The side of a dice is not a whole dice, after all. Who knows, I'm too tired to care right now.
I got rid of it.
It's not permanent, but it can't get me anymore. It can't feed off of me, it can't harass my sister, it can't visit us in our dreams. It can't send me spiraling down from a natural high, into a mental breakdown in a matter of minutes or hours. It can't suck the life from me, while no one in the room notices. It can't do any of that anymore, because of what I just did.
I was brave. My body aches, my hands are shaking, and fingers are rather close to blistering [I am careful with how I type]. I buried those bullets in the ground, I defeated the enemies along the way. I didn't expect them but I should have. Who knew a trowel could be such a good weapon.
A part of me feels like I'm overreacting, that my victory is small and that I shouldn't make a post on every social media site I have. But you know what? I was scared of this thing. It frightened me, and very few things do. It made me feel small and weak, but most importantly, it made me feel like I deserved it, that being host to a parasite wasn't such a big deal. So, it seems only proper to celebrate, to say fuck you, because I didn't deserve what happened to me. My freedom is worth celebrating.
I wish I could initiate part two of the plan, but I'm so weak. I don't know if I could do it, even if I tried. I've never really tried astral projection; I did try some as a kid, but never too seriously. What I did was enter more of a trance state, although it bore some similarities to projecting. Yet, when I listened to the audio clip, it sure was easy to slip out. I didn't even mean to but I was half way there, like taking off a glove. Perhaps my tranciness in my youth helped me be able to project easier, it helped me recognize that my body is a vessel for a piece of me, a facet... it not actually me, not all of me. The side of a dice is not a whole dice, after all. Who knows, I'm too tired to care right now.
This thing's sucking the life from me. It has been for years, using me as a host. And now, because I'm fighting back, it's sucking even harder. That's why I snapped earlier. That's why I woke up this morning aching, because it knew the bullets tied to my wrist were for it .
I need to get this over with. I'm scared, this isn't just some demon or pixie. This is something people don't even speak the name of, something I have to have a nick name for to lighten the mood.
J's been so kind, helping me, protecting me. I bet the reason it's never done anything serious is because of him. It's what I believe. He's so good to me, and I'm so scared of him sometimes, I feel like I don't deserve him. He's too good to be true.
Anyways, I have no specific date to do the thing with the bullets and to interact with The Turtle.
I just need energy, and right now I feel ill, starved, weak. Not as bad as the time E and I broke up with Seashell, but still pretty bad.
I can hear mom doing that heavy breath thing when she's really tired or exasperated. I wonder if it attacks her too. I bet it does. I remember the one time I tasted a bit of her energy, and it made me physically ill. She was like poison. Maybe it hits her hardest. Or, she's just toxic for me. Who knows. I sure won't, until I get this bastard out.
I wish I was braver about this, I was told I'd have to be. But, it takes emotional, spiritual energy from me, and makes me feel like it's okay. It's almost like it numbs me and makes my sense of self worth highly erratic. It's abusive, and the main thing that justifies me getting rid of it is how it probably affects my family. I know my sister feels it. She saw it once. She hates going out to the garage; I feel bad for mocking her. She's probably more sensitive to it in some ways than I, she's a Cancer after all.
I've got to do this, for her. She deserves to live a life without fear, especially of something that most people don't believe exists.
I need to get this over with. I'm scared, this isn't just some demon or pixie. This is something people don't even speak the name of, something I have to have a nick name for to lighten the mood.
J's been so kind, helping me, protecting me. I bet the reason it's never done anything serious is because of him. It's what I believe. He's so good to me, and I'm so scared of him sometimes, I feel like I don't deserve him. He's too good to be true.
Anyways, I have no specific date to do the thing with the bullets and to interact with The Turtle.
I just need energy, and right now I feel ill, starved, weak. Not as bad as the time E and I broke up with Seashell, but still pretty bad.
I can hear mom doing that heavy breath thing when she's really tired or exasperated. I wonder if it attacks her too. I bet it does. I remember the one time I tasted a bit of her energy, and it made me physically ill. She was like poison. Maybe it hits her hardest. Or, she's just toxic for me. Who knows. I sure won't, until I get this bastard out.
I wish I was braver about this, I was told I'd have to be. But, it takes emotional, spiritual energy from me, and makes me feel like it's okay. It's almost like it numbs me and makes my sense of self worth highly erratic. It's abusive, and the main thing that justifies me getting rid of it is how it probably affects my family. I know my sister feels it. She saw it once. She hates going out to the garage; I feel bad for mocking her. She's probably more sensitive to it in some ways than I, she's a Cancer after all.
I've got to do this, for her. She deserves to live a life without fear, especially of something that most people don't believe exists.
