synapse to synapse

charliediedaprisoner — Sun, 03 Jul 2011 04:19:47 +0000

i can’t forget.

charliediedaprisoner — Wed, 15 Sep 2010 04:31:46 +0000

how am i suppose to live without you

charliediedaprisoner — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 07:38:05 +0000

once my mother and cats have found death i will probably not be around much longer.
i doubt i will find love or children.

im living for my mother, and once she is gone, what will be the point?
i dont think i can handle the slow painful, fear filled creep towards death. im the kind of person who will be hyperventilating when they die.

tricia synapse synapse

charliediedaprisoner — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 11:47:17 +0000

.. it would be nice if i knew who was searching specifically for my blog…?

charliediedaprisoner — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 06:05:22 +0000

TO HELL WITH LIFE
AND
BROKEN HEARTS
THAT WILL NEVER BE MENDED
FUCK YOU.
I AM MUCH PRETTIER THAN HER
AND WILL SOON IN SOME 6 YEARS BE A DOCTOR
WITH AN ASSOCIATES, TWO BACHELORS, MASTER, AND DOCTORATE DEGREES!!!!

PRECEDE OUT THE FUCKING DOOR.
I PUT MY LIPS TO YOUR FACE.
I WISH I COULD LET IT GO.

YOU SAID I WAS BEAUTIFUL.
THERE WAS SOMETHING THERE
YOU WERE PERFECT.
AND I WILL NEVER FIND ANYONE AS PERFECT.
AND THAT IS WHY I CRY. AND KILL MY FACE WITH STRESS

I AM DRUNK. . . . . ……. … .. . . …. .. . .. … . … . .

charliediedaprisoner — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 05:38:13 +0000

why must i be this way?

I’m so tired And I wish I was the moon tonight

charliediedaprisoner — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 04:51:18 +0000

there is so much pain to be felt in this world.
oh to be oblivious… i had my medication increased recently, and now i cry.
for months and months i couldnt cry even if I wanted to. but now, my face tears itself in all directions and lets out a mute scream.

psychologist in the making

charliediedaprisoner — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 16:51:53 +0000

i have depression. i was diagnosed at age 15 or 16. I was told I had major depression. But I didn’t understand why. The only answer provided was from Zoloft commericals, with the bouncing skittle talking about chemical imbalance. i went through high school thinking my brain was all wrong. Eventually I reached college, away from the influence of my mother, and I stopped taking my antidepressant medication. For me if I was born wrong, then I might as well exist as the truth of what I am. Since then, 3 years ago, I have been depressed everyday. It’s something I just accepted, accepted that it could not change.

Being the person I am, I became very curious about my mind. What made it work the way it did? To answer this question I took a psychology class in high school. The knowledge I gained help me have better quality sessions with my psychologist. i could talk about the id, ego, and superego, and what part had more control over me. From this class and the exchange of words, I came to realize psychology was something I was passionate about.

I went on to college being a psychology major. However, I stopped taking my medication. The medication kept me above the surface, and by the end of the semester I was drowing. This spring I returned to college, on medication, with a goal in my head. Depression was the one thing I had knowledge of. What if I could help people whose brains were abnormal like mine? So even though to become a psychologist I would need to complete 8 more years of school, i couldn’t leave adolescents and young adults as confused as I was.

I don’t want to help normal people. They have the whole world looking out for them. I am going to help the miniority, help them understand themselves, so they don’t have to be injured by their disorder like I was.

…and I get to be a doctor, which I never expected I could be.

she breaks just like a little girl

charliediedaprisoner — Sat, 14 Feb 2009 06:36:10 +0000

my mother was in an accident earlier yesterday. it wasn’t serious. she wasn’t hurt. but as i was thinking about what had occurred I came to realize that my mother’s death would be the most terrible thing that could happen in my life. i used to think that my death was what i fear most, but with my death there is no sorrow afterward to tend to. and in this realization part of me wanted her death to come soon. in the same way i want my death to come soon. i dont want her to die, but its hard waiting. waiting for the phone call. waiting for the moment when my life is over.

i guess some people can handle grief. but i can’t. i used to pray to god with all i had, that he would never take my mother from me. i did this because even as a child i knew i couldnt handle that. i know that once she dies i will give up.

the relationship with my mother has been difficult. its not like i will be losing my best friend or anything like that. she is my mother. but that is the point. she is my mother. the only person i have been connected to during my entire life. the only person i couldnt push away. once she is gone, there will be no one. and once she is gone, then she is gone.

i know that once she is gone, i won’t be able to finish school or go back to work or do whatever i need to do in my life. i dont want to feel that kind of pain. then i really will be broken.

charliediedaprisoner — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 05:16:32 +0000

i think i am kinda broken.

its strange the things you will say to someone. things you did not even realize you believed in.

from the words I have spoken I have come to see I am not very hopeful. i expect to be comfortable, not happy. i actually seek comfort, not happiness. perhaps merely because comfort is more easily gained. or maybe becuase i don’t think I can be happy. part of me views life as hell. we live every day and there is nothing to really be gained. except comfort. and we live our lives and there is no real purpose, nothing achieved. but the alternative is death. and death is worse than hell. so i keep living because the alternative is death. i keep living not because I am happy, or want to live, but because i don’t want to die. and saying this to someone, not in such a concrete way even, made me feel like i had given up without even knowing i had. i look at life and see 80 some years, if im lucky, that could be miserable, maybe even happy, but in the end those years don’t even matter. i die. and its nothing. its this endless game. where we all rotate turns. except you only get one turn. and the game doesn’t matter. and even if there is some god out there who is giving this game a purpose, it either doesn’t especially relate to me or I find it beneath my existence. life has to be more than smiling at people and being nice. if it isnt, i fail anyways.

since i was younger, i dont know the age, but it must have been in my middle teens, i would think to myself that if heaven existed, if i had proof of its existence somehow, then my life span would be substantially shorten. it wouldnt be enough to have the guarantee of a reward once i died eventually. i wouldnt want to keep living life. life wasn’t worth the wait.