And the horrible part about my self manipulation is, I was intelligent.
If you don’t understand why this would be horrible, you might not get what this means when it comes to manipulation. Not too intelligent people can manipulate people as well, but if you are intelligent you can convince even better, with arguments and brain power others don’t have.
I am at a point where I would agree that I probably only have an average IQ level if even. Not because it always has been like this, but because I manipulated myself into stupidity. If you don’t think this is possible, than you don’t understand how self-manipulation can work.
I always told myself that I am stupid in a way that I would believe an accept it.
I created thoughts around my ideas and thoughts, so that always when I would get hope I would tell myself things to get myself down again.
Not because I would believe it just like that, but because I knew it wasn’t true I could believe it. (Eh what? Explain this please) Yes, I know strange and paradox. No what I mean is, I knew exactly that I couldn’t be stupid or at least too stupid, but compared to what I thought was true and what was actually true, I could convince myself that I wasn’t stupid, but everyone else was as smart or smarter than me. Do you understand where I want to go from here? A straight lie “You are stupid.” didn’t work, so I tried to convince myself the other way around and it worked with enough of these “around the corner” logic tricks.
Because now I am here, writing things and I often don’t know whether it is stupid or actually interesting. Not because I couldn’t see the actual value and I can, but because I manipulated myself to a point, where nothing I do can just be right. There always is the need for aproval or correction. And this is the ‘stupid’ label, I created for myself. The other one also worked great ‘insane’. I always had a great imagination as a kid, I could battle armies in the forest, play with imaginary friends, build imaginated worlds and things and I just saw them in some way, when I wanted to.
So I could switch on the space world, or the rail road world, the roman empire mode, spear thrower game, knight, scientist, manager… and so on.
I had a lot of imagination as I said. In the early years of middle school I had no direct access to the forest anymore and also other problems which also supported the negative manipulation. So I started to use my imagination against myself. “You are just imaginating things, you aren’t actually intelligent.” or “Just because you think, this idea is right, doesn’t mean it has to be” and because this works very well on an intelligent mind as well, I could just convince myself that my own imagination was just tricking on me, while I actually was tricking myself from the other side and the imagination could have been my friend as it was for my early years of my childhood.
Don’t get this wrong, it wasn’t just about playing “stupid” games, I actually imagined highly technical details like some sort of tablet to control trains and manage factories, I had underground facilities and train factories. It even took actual time for them to produce new trains and when they were ready I could drive with them or let them drive to another city or country to produce money. Man, those days. I even constructed a rail road system in my home area with stations and lines and sometimes I drove a line. Sometimes I drove a bus (on my bike or just while walking in real life).
I had a size system for my trains and busses, so they could fit into the roads and underground stations and so on. Many details I can tell and that is just what I can remember. But I had a lot to think about and I just enjoyed it.
Must have been strange from the outside.
But now my imagination is just my enemy because I convinced myself that it is my enemy. As well as other people because they of course thought that when you get older these kind of things are stupid.
Which leads me to the next step in my manipulation. I learned how to manipulate myself over other people. You might think “how does that work? They will surely know what you are up to or just don’t understand it.”
You haven’t met my brain, I can tell.
As I said, I started “using” other people to manipulate myself, while they also manipulated me themselves in their way, but what they said was just basic things many of us know: “Get a good job. Make money.” And they wanted that I succeed, of course. What is some sort of manipulation on someone who just wants to do something else. But I learned how people work, especially my mother as well as friends. So I would say certain things because I knew they would respond in a certain way to them. Then I could convince myself easier of some things (e.g. being stupid, insane, illusions, false dreams, …) because then I could say to myself “Look, they also think it is stupid.” or “See, they all think you can’t do a thing.” While they might not even have noticed that they were part of my self manipulation at all, they might have even thought they helped me or just answered a question.
I sadly have no example for this right now, but I sure know that I did these things and maybe not even too long ago. What started with other people hurting me, ended up in a self manipulation system so evil and intelligent, that even I couldn’t have thought of it (yes, this is sentence).
The only things which reminds me, that I wasn’t stupid before I started this whole self-destruction, self-manipulation process, that my mother often told me that I could things others couldn’t when I wasn’t even in school and that I can remember things even from when I was just 1 or 2 years old and these are solid memories. But even my memories are often manipulated by myself for myself. I wanted to convince myself that death was my only option because I knew that I couldn’t kill myself just right away.
I mean how broken do you have to be, that you start manipulating yourself in such a strange and complex way, so you turn yourself into your worst nightmare, while you were perfect and fine before? Like a virus, only that it started in my brain.
And while the program probably still runs up there (yes it does because I am still manipulating myself partially at least), I try to break free, but the damage is already too big I suppose. If it would only be a “simple” depression, I could probably get help with some pills and a nice therapist maybe. But because I actually caused most of the problem myself, it is hard to find a cure. And the damage is only unimportant, when I doing what I love. But even then it is still there, only in the background. I could never really kill my hope, I wasn’t able to destroy it because my original hope and love was so big, that even though a lot got lost, I still have enough to start over, when someone help stays with me. But I think I don’t have enough to do it all alone. There was too much self manipulation, so my hope was turned into the enemy because it was called unrealisitc and stupid, while it actually was my intelligence in some way.
Complicated I know, but I just had to assure you, that I am indeed the cause for most of my pain. I wasn’t the start, I didn’t want this at first, but as soon as I noticed, that this world was not “real” in some way, I knew I couldn’t be me. And because what was different on me, got hurt, I tried to be “normal” in some way possible, so I could die hidden. I hoped for many years to just die at some point, because of a sickness, an accident or even killing myself finally. But it never really happened. I had some times when I could have died, but I didn’t.
After all this manipulation I still couldn’t kill myself. And then even the hope started to grow again, so I had to do something about it.
And when I first saw what really happened all the time and what I was and could be and all the hate, frustration, depression and destruction, I could finally kill myself, or so I thought in December.
I took a cup and put bath cleaner inside and I took one gulp, but I didn’t swallow it. It was in my mouth, the mouth started to feel weird, I got panic and ran into the bath (I was in another room at first). There I spit everything out and washed my mouth several times.
But the taste stayed and probably some of that liquid got into my blood cycle because I felt bad the week after – physically. But I survived.
I also drove with the car 160 km/h while it was stormy outside. Nothing killed me. But the moment when I actually took the gulp, it just broke something. To this point, I never went this far. I only looked at it, maybe prepared things, but then didn’t really do them. While this time I did. I mean I didn’t drink it, but I could have with ease. Just my supporter for the last half year hold me back, the thought that I would leave him behind.
And this was a traumatic event for me, so you see I probably created more traumatic events on my own, than other people. Because the little things it needed, created something big inside me. The dead me, which wanted to be where all dead go.
So even positive things could make me feels worse because I manipulated myself with positive phrases through other people without them noticing it and even just myself. I build up such a good strategy to break myself down, that I don’t even know how it all started. I don’t even know how deep it goes and what actually is true and self manipulation.
Like in these sci-fi movies when people have false memories, but they think they are real or their own, when they are not and then they get confused until they find out that either they wanted it or someone else or that it just was better for everyone or whatever. In my case I wanted this because I thought I couldn’t be who I wanted to and that this world was just dark and broken. So I just wanted to help me leaving in some way. At first I thought I could die easier this way, but instead it was more difficult because I had no motivation anymore, not even for dying. I didn’t thought about that because I never had this feeling before. And intelligent isn’t all. Feelings have to be felt. So my ultimate plan (I created before my teens) failed in some way.
Then when I found my feelings again, sadness, hope, love and real fear etc. the plan could finally be executed, but then there was this hope, still alive.
And I am glad it was, but after all I know about my own destruction and damage, it feels as if I am a deer which got shot, but didn’t die yet and just screams while not able to get away in fear until the hunter finally kills it.
My best exploit was on my naive part. I could abuse my own naivity because at first I believe many things because I thought everything was good and wanted to give me knowledge (when I was some years old and even in elementary school). So I had my weak point and while I could try to convince myself with logic (false logic or imagination abuse), the best worked with naive attacks. I could tell myself that my naive part was actually the biggest problem and the source for all stupidity (which wasn’t true at all, but it worked well). Because naive things got called stupid from others, so I could say myself the same, forcing myself to give up the naive thoughts, the dreams and also a lot oh my hope.
But no matter how intelligent I was in my early years, I shrinked it down to at least average. Maybe not all of it and maybe not in a scientific way, if this is in some way measurable other than these IQ tests. But I am sure that I lost or at least successfully blocked much of my original intelligence and potential. Leaving me with a broken system and a still not dead me, which has it even harder than before.
Not even my suicide ideas are that intelligent anymore, if they ever were.
But they are still evil in some way because they could still work and I could still just try it. This whole process is just waiting for me, to make one step back again and if I don’t move forward fast enough, it catches me again.
Like a “zombie” virus (not a virus which creates zombies, but hides away to come out again at some point). Everything feels better, until at some point a little thing hits you and all is dark again, and like a dream, a nightmare.
Does it help to write about this? Yes. No.
The answer is complicated. It helps to process it, but the actual problem won’t go away. And pills can’t help with it, at least not more than when I do my own “drugs” – like porn, games and watching movies and series etc.
The problem wasn’t there when I was little, it got created at some point by other people and then I helped it to grow and wanted what it wanted, to end my life. So for me it never was “voices, demons” it was me, but the dark me. I controlled it. And I knew what it was doing. I sometimes just thought on multiple levels I thought and this is actually what it is. I sometimes thought, maybe it is something else, but I knew it was a part of me, most of the time. It is paradox to know it isn’t real, while believing it. But I got myself to believe my own lies and manipulated myself to a point in which I would probably use my naive part against myself as a weapon. So I fear everything which might seem good because it could be a bad thing and I just want to hurt myself with it again because I know my naive part would think it could be good, only to hurt it again when the time has come.
And I know I didn’t cause my problems at first, that I didn’t want to end up like this. I just accepted it as the only thing possible at one point, so I thoght, it would be easier to support it than to fight against it without a possibility to win. I was wrong, but it doesn’t matter because it got me to a point where I can’t hear positive nor negative things without a negative back thought.
Sometimes it didn’t show up, but it always is there and when it doesn’t come now it will come later with other thoughts combined.
When the hope is this low, but you still want to fight, it must be insane or a lie. I don’t know whether I actually want to live or die or just exist or don’t exist. When hope is bigger, I want to live, when hope is lower I just want to be away. But taking pills can’t change it. It could only make me feel “better” in a biological way, while there still would be the problems and some causes for my problems around, which can’t be “pilled” away.
So compared to my good part, I have very heavy dark part.
But nothing is really developed anymore because I broke all development, if I even had some. And this is the most horror because I am at a point where I really can’t tell for sure that I really was intelligent or just thought I was. And if everything around you supports your own destruction without intending it, you can’t tell whether it all was an illusion in the first place. All I can convince myself that I actually must have been intelligent are the doctors and what people said about my behaviour in my first years. A doctor said, that I am an early-maturing one and that I even gave him a hand when he entered while others didn’t. I learned colors early, started to speak just after some months, just some words, but in my head must have been more words, I only couldn’t say them. Because as strange as it sounds, I remember thinking about more than I could say. But on the other hand it is logical because we often first understand a language before we can speak it because we listen to it first to learn.
Hah, I am at least average, yay… (Is happy that at least something survived, while actually I would like to be completely dead).
Because one part of my brain seems to be majorly damaged (maybe it isn’t the right but the left part, maybe both to some point), I maybe telling very good things, maybe very interesting things, but I won’t know it all the time if ever, because it is just what is left of what I had. And when I try to explain, that I was more intelligent as a kid than I am now, people don’t seem to understand, how should they…
But for me intelligence is not static, it is constantly changing. Often it is getting more or stays the same. But when you are sick or broken it can be less. I mean maybe not the IQ (I am not sure how it is calculated, never really interested me), but I would go as far as telling it could change the IQ.
So maybe the broken people are the most intelligent people, but because they are broken too much they aren’t anymore or don’t recognize it as such.
This doesn’t mean only intelligent people can get broken, but it always was easier for them because they had easier ways to fool themselves, when others pushed them into this direction.
People with less intelligence, might be able to many things, but they don’t have this problem to question things too much, at least not in a way it could change a lot for worse or better. And then maybe no one has to be “stupid” or “intelligent”, but this is a different story. And I hate science which just wants to make profit or support the so called elites.
And the worst thing is, that people think the music, movies and others things are what bring me down, when actually most of the time they help me to stay up again. Especially when they are strange in some way because it fits to me. I often heard from my parents that I should watch this or listen to that or whatever. Especially from my father who himself is the best example for failure and manipulation at the same time.
It just hurts when someone thinks you are this easy to be manipulated.
While on the other hand I got myself into the state of easy self manipulation after a hard time convincing myself to the manipulated. (And yes, it is strange and seems irrational from the outside, but you didn’t feel what I felt) It wasn’t a decision, like going to the cinema or swimming. It was a survival-death plan. I tried to convince myself that I just have to move forward because soon it will all be over and I wanted to make it easier for myself because when you are less intelligent you are less likely to think too much, right? But well it only partially worked, but I am still thinking too much, only stupid thoughts. Should have seen that coming. But I thought stupid people don’t think too much. Maybe I am not stupid after all? All plans never worked out the way they were intended to work. So now I will stick with less or even no planning at all because it only takes time and won’t bring me anywhere else than more thoughts and problems. But the problems will come anyways, so why planning for them too much?
I noticed that I am writing the most in the first hours of each day.
In this state I am half asleep, so the writing gets easier for me because there is less thinking. Well, this would support pills, but as I said, it isn’t this easy, it never is. And if I would have to take pills forever, than it definitely isn’t the solution, just a supression. And I have enough of those. I developed supporters and downers in my life, but in the end nothing really helped except facing my past for real, not just complaining about it. And facing my reality right now for real. But now I am in a positive place, while I still can’t feel safe because my situation seems “done” from the outside and also from a rational perspective. And I actually am really done, so I just need some time to get better, but then this “some” is very relative. I don’t know how long it actually takes to fully recover from self-manipulation after over a decade being used to it.
And no, each time I might write I could be intelligent, or know something, inside it is like: “This is all normal, you are just basic, you don’t know a thing, everyone has this, why do you think you are special, just stop this nonsense.” And I still write it, if I think it is right or at least feels right. Because I couldn’t really infiltrate my gut in all these years because it is not directly connected like the the different brain sections.
So I could only block the connections from gut to brain and body.
But I never really mastered it, controlled it and I guess this is a good thing. Otherwise I would have nothing to trust and so far my gut was leading me into the right direction, as soon as I really got it working again.
Even though sometimes it might has overreacted, but what else should one do in such a situation, right?
I guess I will stop here again because this is already very long again and takes much time to load on the browser, at least it could take. Better smaller pieces and as I wrote, in the early hours I am often writing too much / more than the other times.
It is when the music is easier because the sleep hormones are getting in, but this can’t be going on all the time like this because it causes me to be more tired after waking up. It is not as bad as waking up when I had to go to work or school or something I didn’t want to go, just not fully healthy. But it is way better than waking up in fear or stress.
So I keep doing this for a while. But soon I will have to find another solution. And I also think that this is caused by the dreams I have. I didn’t write the last dream log because it included perverted sexuality, horror science and it felt pretty real, the feelings and visuals. So I don’t want to go into detail, just that it could cause a trauma on its own. And I am out.
When I was walking through the forest one day, when it was dark in the evening (just one or two weeks ago), I thought someone was walking with me and sometimes I thought something was behind me, but in the end it just felt as if an army of lost souls would follow me through the forest, not because they want to chase me or harm me, they just wanted someone to follow out of the dark forest they got lost in.
It was more a feeling than a real thing, but who knows…
And then I thought about the “King of the damned” song, I finally listend to today, it popped up sometimes, but I didn’t listen to it yet until tonight.
And I am still writing. This music just keeps me writing.
Some good stuff. The music can equal with the inside, so there can be a change. When the music changes slowly the inside changes slowly. But in my case the music can change rapidly and always changes in some way. From slow to fast, from dark to bright, from metal to acustic.
There is a disharmony inside of me, which want’s to get into harmony. A negative harmony and a positive harmony, combined to a overall harmony.
Not only with myself, but everything. Darkness is only as dark as the light shining its way. So when the light is bright, darkness might be darker, but when the light is almost out, darkness might not be this bad at all. It is all perspective. While evil is on neither side and both of them, darkness has a right to be as light, as brightness. It depends on what is dark for you. If your darkness is just broken, it might not be evil at all, but something evil is always there, either on the dark or on the bright side. When it is on the bright side it supports you to do bad things and when it is on the dark side it supports you to do harm to yourself, maybe both. It is just important, that darkness is not evil because darkness is just a lack of light. Often the good people hide in the dark because the evil would see it in the light.