Day 78 (first hours)

I don’t want this and I hope my mind will get away from this thought road again, but I falling down again. So I indeed was not meant to see what I have seen.

I can’t handle my reality, the prison I still live in. If I would be alone somewhere, now I would have no problem with that, maybe I never had a problem with being alone. But I never was alone, I never had the chance to be really alone. Only the forest was a place where I could be really alone because I wanted to be with the animals, with the trees. Because when I am away from humans I am actually not alone, but whole.

This evening showed me than I am nothing. That I let myself drag down again. I didn’t even fight that much. The invisible hand grabbed me and after some fighting I just jumped towards it. I let it open my invisible wounds inside my head and heart. When I got this person visiting, I felt not good because of what was. I knew it was dangerous, but I didn’t thought it would lead me to a break down just some hours later.

I had a fight with my mother again, I was saying things again, I knew I should not have said. I was on the downward spiral again. While just some hours ago everything seem okay, now it is almost the opposite again.

Almost, because I still know what I wrote and that I meant what I wrote. But I think as soon as I thought, that now life could begin, I had to be stopped it seemed. I had to be stopped through kind words I didn’t want to hear, through a visitor I didn’t want to see. Leaving me with this open wound again. I should have known, should have seen it coming and I felt it coming, but I thought, it wouldn’t be this heavy.

I didn’t say what I had to say, that I can’t stand his religous, conservative behaviour and words. I always feel as if I can’t say a word while near him. It is the same with my father, but with my father it is worse because my father did hurt me since my childhood, through words, through angry punishment, almost as if he was feeling good doing so. I wasn’t allowed to play, to be free. I was forced to hide my feelings, to hide my thoughts, to hide things in general. I was forced to run away to feel free. And then people were worried about my mental health, while I actually was never really stable. So I had to go to therapy because my mother didn’t know what to do. But the therapist said he can’t help me and to be honest he even supported my father, while actually me and my mother where the victims in the story. The other man we asked immediately understood the situation, but sadly wasn’t in the position to do something, only to give instant help. So at least the other therapist gave me a rehab, but also just a year later, when I actually already felt a little better because I finally changed schools. (This was when I was 16 switching from secondary school to a technical high school.) The rehab didn’t help because I also couldn’t talk with the therapist there because I forgot about all what happened to me, really I had almost no clue why I actually was there, so I decided to cancel the therapy and the therapist agreed, in the believe that I probably just had a bad time and now felt better. I actually felt better in the clinic because of all the other people who also had problems. But together we were some kind of happy family for the most part. Why am I writing this again? Ah right, because I am writing for my own good. I guess the love to myself wasn’t big enough today and then when I already got hit, I tried to hold it back from leaving, while hurting my mother along the way.

When I should describe how I felt before I started to write, I would say probably < 30% healthy in the brain and it was going down each minute or even second. Now I am on 50% I think.

Remember I just posted that I was doing so great and now it was almost like programmed that I had to feel bad for it because I can’t actually feel that good, care for people and do things at the same time.

I am probably at the point in the story where I should say: “I am not the one. I am not the right one for this job.” or something like that. Because while until this afternoon all felt good and since I was doing great this week and also not too bad the week before, I thought, John, you are finally getting to the point where you where and always wanted to be. But now I am almost back in the “I can’t tell my truth” and that I actually should just stop all of it.

The thing is, all I need right now is, that I can do what I want and through this do what God wants because what I want, is to help those who don’t want to live, those who have enough of religious phrases and smiles, while in the background, behind closed doors people are lying, people are doing horrible things sometimes or just pretend to be good, while they aren’t.

My father wanted to show me how to live a good life, he even said, that he was wearing his white shirt and a tie for me. And when I started to talk about good metal bands who were actually helping people and playing motivating songs to not get lost in this hell, he said, why can’t you hear good music. So please, tell me, what is good music? I am curious. Because I know music, I know all the music, I know what is bad, what is good, what makes you feel good, what makes you feel bad. What is good music for you dad? Probably good old church songs I suppose. And I have to apologize for what I am writing in this post because I am writing in some kind of hate, pain, rage and partially broken state of mind.

If Jesus would be here today, what would he do?

I don’t know about me, but I know Jesus would just help the people who want to listen and believe. I am not Jesus.

The thing is, I am now given the decision to start my inner war again. I am given the decision. And the sad thing is, after all what I wrote, what I thought, what I felt, what I wanted. All good, all love. I was about to say “Yes” to the question “Do you want to start the war again?”. But while it almost happened, I saved myself into writing. I saved myself into Gods offer to take my sorrow away.

You know, I think without God wanting me to live, I could have died so many times already. The last months, while still having trouble with my mental health and problems, I felt things naturally again. I felt all the love I couldn’t feel before, only at rare moments and even than it was more like pain without tears. Now I felt love as a gift and healing. But did I start it again today. I sure didn’t stop it… God stopped me, but then for what?

I saw the prison again today, the prison of my life. My father who is trapped in his own false believe bubble, at least he tried to change now, or maybe I just wanted it to be true. And then my mother who does everything for me in some way, but she should take care of herself. And then me, who still is here, acting like a child, but in a bad way. No, like a fool I should say. But then what is a fool, right? I guess I want to be trapped in my own hell. Because now that I had the opportunity to actually do what I always wanted, to help people like me, to just tell what is going on in my head. I let the first bigger attack drag me down. I didn’t listen to my own words, I especially didn’t listen to Jesus and God.

But I know God still loves me. And yet, why did I let me drag down so easily? I know why, because I am still way weaker than I think. I am like the best computer there is sometimes, but then a little bug breaks it all and then I am nothing more like a calculator which can add or subtract two numbers (like a useless piece of shit in other words). But it is not because I can’t see, it is not because I can’t do right. I naturally did all these things when I was little and I naturally want these things. So why is it then? I guess because I still can’t fully trust myself and therefor God. Because when I can fully trust myself, I can trust in God. I naturally trusted God and I know that God only wants me to grow. But then I still can be stronger than the wounds it seems. Should I leave the prison and just go to a place where I can feel free naturally? Because this is what I always wanted. But then I know that I can be where I am and be where I wanted to be. Because when I was around >90% I knew that no matter where I am and how the things seem, I will survive it. But the tricky part is, that I got mentally tortured since my early childhood.

How should I “simply” trust myself? I could as long as things were in parameters I could work with, but now I got too many problems at once today. My computer parts didn’t arrive. I have no data. It still says they should arrive today or at least the last time I looked some hours ago. I had my father again who asked whether we could do something together today and tomorrow and then this other religious man. Not only did he appear, but also ask again about whether I could again help with his computer some time soon and that he would call. And I couldn’t say no again. I couldn’t say no because I knew I sure can help, I knew I sure had time, but I couldn’t say that it hurts me inside. So I said, sure why not. Before that he asked how I feel and I naturally said, that I feel good, I guess. But the “I guess” was telling, that I actually felt good until he arrived. And now I am trapped in this loop again I guess. Why couldn’t I just say no… or just do what I told myself and what God prepared me for.

I guess I am just acting like Jona now. And maybe that is right. But on the other hand, I felt horrible. Why can’t my mother just be save somewhere else and happy? So that I could leave my dad and just live my life. Because I actually wanted what he thought he would teach me, but because of that I guess I can’t do it actually. Can I? God thinks I can, otherwise he would have let me die already.

I still don’t want to die, like before. But for me this always means that when there is a situation in which I could die, I am ready to die. Because nothing holds me on this earth. I only want to help some others before I am gone. And I already helped some people along the way.

But I think I never really helped myself. And now that I am still in this more or less self therapy process since last year June / July, I started myself because God pushed me into it. I still feel like the others have to be helped. Because while the last weeks I felt good, I felt almost perfect sometimes, I now know that I indeed still have to process some heavy things.

And maybe I am the one on the chair, while I am also on the other side doing an exorcism with my mind and you all are supporting me. So maybe this is the next stage. But this shall not be an excuse. I know what I am doing. I am fighting for my life. My inner war stopped. I did forgive myself, my broken side. But maybe while I wasn’t forcing myself to be broken this time, I still let it happen because I was too weak.

So this time it is actually not me I am fighting, so the question about the war should be answered with a clear “NO!”. Because why should I fight myself now. I already won this battle, this war. Why starting it again? So now I am fighting the next battle, the next war. Am I ready? I will never know. God knows. And if God knows, I can feel safe because then I will be safe.

But I want to say one thing. Should I be seem like on of those who say “Here is Jesus, there is Jesus.” Then don’t follow me. Don’t believe me. In general don’t believe me because I am just a soul like you. You have to know for yourself. I can’t give you that. God will, if you really want to.

I sure want to live because this is my purpose. But how far can I go? Today fear showed me that there is a big problem ahead and showed me that I have to handle religious things and how they broke me, while I knew the truth beneath it all. Did I even see more than I was supposed to see?

All I want is to live a life with problems only I put onto myself and problems I will handle. And some people like me or just people who are honest with me and I can with them. I already found them, but now I still feel as if I can’t reach them. As if I am not allowed to leave my father behind and as if I can’t leave my mother right now because she needs help with all this. And then there is also this house which is mine. If I could, I would just give the house my father and go somewhere else with my mother. But then this seems impossible.

Or is it just the prison I created myself?

Did I want these problems because I wanted to handle them? But then I would actually hate myself. Because I would have known that even though I might, or hopefully survive this hell inside at some point, I will be left with a lot of pain. Or did I want this because I had to do this? But then Jesus did take all pain onto himself or actually God and he was without sin. I have sin, but still, maybe I have to walk this painful path because Jesus wasn’t much different from me. But still, he was withstanding the sins, while I couldn’t. But we are his students. So while Jesus is the master and his master is God, we might be not far from it. But it feels so strange to say it this way because I actually wouldn’t say that I am the right one for this job. I mean Jesus was the right one and he did what he had to do. Therefor this part is done. Still, we who want to help, know that we have to help. But shouldn’t we first be able to heal ourselves? I think this is the problem I am working on.

I already thought about the dream again, I had last year. I dreamed about me in a near future in some way. And I was building up and part of a group of people who just wanted to be free to help others in a way they could do. Because it was their natural need to help, but because of the world and problems they had themselves it was hard. So in this group they were able to do what they want.

I also talked to people on the street. Some wanted to attack me even with a knife or rob me. But in the end at least one or maybe two of them joined the group. I still don’t know what I told them. Maybe because I wasn’t ready to know because it actually was the future in some way.

This group was like a company, but everyone was their own boss. We worked together when there where things we wanted to do together and some did work it small groups, some did work alone. And we also were sitting together sometimes, sharing our stories, our ideas and were just happy. People where living their dreams.

Should I now also say “I have a dream” ?

Maybe I will die for this dream, maybe I will get lost in my own broken mind again, if God wants me to be broken. Or maybe I want it myself and God can’t help me, if I don’t want him to help me.

I would probably feel better writing God in a female version because I actually have enough from man and all these things. For me God is genderless anyways because man and woman together is a human. So god is both anyways. Should I be wrong, than I am sorry God, but you know I mean you. Because for me genders aren’t important if the heart is right and if the heart isn’t right genders are again not important. So in the end, why is it important whether God is man or woman? If you ask me, it is time for the woman to be free, so why can’t God be female for once. But in general, for me it doesn’t matter. Because God is love.

My next track, I actually created this afternoon before I had this major break down. I just merged it a second time with the reverse version. So this one is for the next album named after my nickname, J.SYS.

“A step beyond my time”
Album: “J.SYS”

So while the “Victor Negocik” album has three tracks and each of them is the result of merging the original audio track with its reversed version. This track is also merged with the reversed version, but then afterwards again cloned and merged with the reverse version of the reverse version. Which actually created an interesting effect, but didn’t change much from the version before because it is obvious that the reverse from a reverse version can’t be much different because it already is the same on both ends in some way. I still did it and got some kind of overflow effect.

I hope I can get to at least 75% again while listening to it now. And then I might go into the forest again or just call it a night and sleep.

Love you guys and sorry that you had to see me fall again. But I didn’t let it take me as a whole. God saved me thanks to the writing therapy he pushed me into. I saved myself with his help or God helped me with my help. Because I let it happen.

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