Archive for the ME Category

In regards to a question…..

Posted in Alters, Anger, Guilt, ME, PTSD, Questions, Uncategorized on January 30, 2017 by dankline2000

Marieolivia (a reader of one of my posts Yes I do this….)

3 daysletsgetstartedbaby.wordpress.com

To me this sounds like not taking responsibility for your own life. So if no one else cares about you (or so you say) why don’t YOU care? Why don’t YOU give a shit about yourself? You also write that nothing changes, and nothing gets better, isn’t this a perfect example that cutting doesn’t help you either. It gives relief, and we need relief. We crave it desperately, but don’t delude yourself into thinking that cutting takes your problems away.

You asked your reader (in this instance me) where this leaves you. This leaves you with one hell of a job to get out of the funk. But you’re the only one that can do it. And it will never change before you decide that it will. I believe that you can change your life.

 

Thank you first of all for being so forthright and bluntly honest, I truly do appreciate this.

The questions you’re asking me about my post are not very easy to answer but then they just might be simpler than I think. No, I don’t take responsibility for my own life not anymore, reasons are not easy for me to explain but in the end, the truth is I just don’t. I have fucked it up beyond all recognition. No, I don’t give 2 shits about myself, but have you heard the saying that those who can’t do, teach? Guess you could say the same about myself, if I truly didn’t give 2 shits about myself shouldn’t I have done something about by now instead of bitch and complain? I tried; I tried really hard but just couldn’t do it. Change, now change is a scary subject for me. The issue is I have tried to change only to end up right back where I started. You know what this is the same old drivel and dumbass shite that I have been writing about since I started this blog.

So I will take your advice MarieOlivia, where does this leave me?

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Yes, I do this…..

Posted in Alters, Anger, Anxiety, Depression, DID, Guilt, ME, PTSD with tags on January 27, 2017 by dankline2000

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I cut…………………

Don’t ask why because if you don’t know about it then you don’t know the release that it brings. To me, it works better than meds. Mostly my left hand right above the thumb, it has been cut on so many times it has no feelings. Why do I do it is the question many people will ask, the whys and what for. I will tell you this I get to the point where nothing else works, not pills, booze, sleep, nothing else works so I cut, and no it doesn’t hurt it does release the endorphins that settle me down. I am not even sure why I am admitting this now of all times, oh yes I do this is perhaps the most stressful point in my life. Literally, I have lost everything. No, I don’t want to kill myself but I do want this time period of my life to move on, think Ground Hog Day with Bill Murray. It seems that every day is the same nothing I do differently seems to matter. I try and try and yet to what end, I still have the stressors, I still have the same fucking thoughts, I stand in absolute silence staring out into the world and seeing nothing but shit, fuck this, I hate it. I have said at least once a day my entire adult life, no one listens to me, no gives a fuck about me and never will. So my dear reader where the fuck does that leave me? I will let you answer that for yourself.

With much gratitude,

Dan Kline

Hello, it’s me…..

Posted in Alters, Anger, Anxiety, Depression, DID, Drug Abuse, Guilt, Loss, Love, ME with tags , , , , , , , , on June 23, 2015 by dankline2000

I believe that there is something happening to my mind. I find that I cannot hear myself, I cannot feel myself. I am afraid that I am breaking up again. The world holds little charm for me again, it’s all just a little too big for me. I am not thinking of ending my life but perhaps my lifestyle. I fear I need to change in order to survive, because you see I cannot go on in the manner in which I have been, constantly shifting personalities like the shuffling of a deck of cards. The lies I tell myself in order to make it from day to day. The constant feeling of having to protect myself, yes I know, all sounds a bit paranoid if you ask us, but I didn’t and I won’t you see because we cannot be trusted to even make sure that all of us don’t come out at once, all in the same place, space and time. Thus we begin again, time to reinvent William Daniel Boyd Kline one more time.

With all my love and gratitude,

Dan  Kline

A thought…..

Posted in Alters, Anger, Anxiety, Depression, DID, ME, PTSD, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on September 17, 2013 by dankline2000

No_Fear_5_-_black__66275.1308767856.1280.1280Fear is only a product of our imagination, we do not fear what is happening but we fear what may happen.

With Much Love and Gratitude,

Dan Kline

The secret…..

Posted in Alters, Anger, Anxiety, Depression, DID, Guilt, Loss, ME, PTSD, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on August 21, 2013 by dankline2000

secretI am the secret in your life, never to be mentioned, never to be seen in the light of day, unknown to others I sit and wait for you like a lost puppy. I don’t want to be a secret anymore; I want to walk beside you in the presence of others, to be known, to be seen, to be with you in every way.

I Ride…..

Posted in Alters, Anger, Anxiety, Depression, DID, ME, PTSD, Short Stories, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on August 20, 2013 by dankline2000

1167883-bigthumbnailI ride, the wind whipping my hair back from my face, riding so fast and hard that tears stream from my eyes as the wind is forced into them. The horse underneath me exhales like the bellows of a blacksmith’s furnace surging forward like the very storm I am riding into. I see the storm, clouds of dark purple and black clouds hanging low to the earth, light flashes in thick jagged lines across the front as I race towards it. I know what I am doing is almost certain death but I am ready, or as ready as I will ever be. I can feel the temperature of the air the closer I get the colder it gets, wrapping around my body looking for spaces between my armour to get at the flesh beneath, the closer to the storm the very air around me becomes filled with shards of ice, quickly I summon to me the words of protection that will keep most of the cold away, as I say them they are whipped from my mouth by the force of the wind, but still the words have worked and the feeling of coldness leaves my body. I am not warm but I know I will not freeze to death before I reach you. The closer to the storm I get I can see the runes etched into my armor begin to flicker with the comforting pale lavender light that is all that protects me from the ravages of this nightmare I have been living.

Racing towards my love as I have been since you were taken from me almost 3 months ago. I slip back into that fateful night that seems an eternity ago. You and sitting in quite comfortable silence, knowing that the decision for you and I was a hard one, for me to give up my position as Captain of the Queens guard, to live our lives as simply as we could, oh we are not in poverty for with the Queens blessing and her most generous gift we will live the rest of our lives in simple luxury, given the estate and surrounding lands and enough gold to last not only our entire lives but the lives of the children we plan to have.

But that entire dream is shattered in one instant as the doors to the manor come crashing in, in its place stands one man all in blood-red armour, purple and black lightning rolling across the lands behind him, his helm is lowered but he and I are old friends you see, but I thought him dead, saw him dead as my sword was thrust between the plates of his armour at the junction between his underarm and sides. This man this was once me in a former life, a life that seemed so long ago. He always wanted you but you were mine from the very first day we looked into each other’s eyes, gray on blue. He raises one gauntleted hand pointing in my direction and purple and black lightning streak from behind him surging forward to strike me where I am I mid-stride reaching for the sword that is hanging with my shield above the mantle of the large fireplace, I don’t make it I am enveloped in surging electrical shocks, my blood sings with energy, my mind expands with clarity, but I cannot move, not even a twitch of my eye. I watch as you struggle to lift the sword I was going for, the tip scratching the stone floor. He walks towards you pushing the visor of his helm up as he comes to stop in front of me his eyes alight with greed and a cold humorless smile upon his mouth. Never he says never would she be yours, you knew she was destined to be mine yet you dated to take her from me. I can still hear you struggle with my sword, knowing as you come into my field of vision that you cannot raise it to save your own life, mine is yours and I gladly give it to save your own, but I cannot I am held enthralled be the spell cast upon me. As if reading my mind he turns to you, looking at how you struggle with my sword. Laughing he walks towards you, and your eyes are on fire the blue of them shining forth with impotent rage, fear but not for yourself but for me. I see the effort in the muscles of your arms and shoulders as you finally heft the massive sword above your head, it is awkward and cumbersome but you hold it steady and true in the way you have seen me do my daily exercises. The light from your eyes as they flash over his shoulder at me is the last thing I see as he flicks a hand dismissively in my direction and more lightning pours into my body bringing with total blackness, but in truth, I see the blue of your eyes.

My eyes snap open the memories have flooded my mind, as I seem to be floating above myself I see my sword laying there, a scrap of the dress you were wearing laying next to it the smell of sulfur from the lightning, faintly ever so faintly your smell lingers in the air. The fire has died and the morning sun is peeking in through the front of the manor where the doors have been destroyed, slowly I fall back into myself, riding through the slashing rain I see only the blue of your eyes, the courage, rage and love that was there is what has kept me going. I know I near the end of my journey and with it I will set you free from the man who has kept you from me, I know I may die but that doesn’t matter as long as you are safe and he dies before I do, with that thought I urge my steed faster into the growing storm.

I hit the leading edge of the storm as I cross that point of no return, lightning flashes from the sky purple and jagged striking the ground around me raining clods of dirt and rocks down upon me in explosion after explosion buffets me from side to side, I have no choice but to ride forward lightning by its own volition is unpredictable and has a mind of its own, so I do not veer from my course but head straight and true knowing my best chance is to keep moving forward. Riding I see looming in the distance a rather foreboding structure not quite the same as the manor house we lived in but a combination of both house and stone formations as if the manor was raised up upon a rocky outcropping sitting higher than the ground I am riding upon, I see lights in the courtyard and torches upon the path leading up to it, calling to me saying run, run to me and the destiny that awaits you, mocking me, sending shivers of fear and anticipation through me like the bolts of lightning lashing out all around me. The night sky explodes with a brilliant purple light I can feel it, finally, it has hit me, sending great rendering shocks coursing through my body. My armor glows intensely the runes full of protective magic shine brighter the longer the electricity flows into my body, finally, the shocks subside I am now standing on the ground thrown from the smoking corpse of my horse, landing on my feet by only the Gods own grace. I am like a beacon of vengeance shining in the night the runes on my armor lighting the area around me as if walking in a purple sun, I can see the way in front of me, the torches and light calling to me mockingly. I put one foot in front of the other and activate my final runes on the armor to make me silent as I walk on towards my final destination.

As I close upon the ramp leading to the manor I see upon the front steps the man who violated my home, stole from me the woman I love. In his right had a sword rests point down, I hear him call out to me not yelling over the winds and rain and crashing lightning but in a conversational voice that I can hear plainly. You have come to your death brother. I am no brother of yours I reply, I have come for her the woman I love and I will have her or I will have your life. She wasn’t yours, to begin with, she was promised to me from ages past she is mine, but if you must, come then and I will end your misery once and for all. Gritting my teeth I walk forward as I get closer I can see that the runes of protection on his armor have no color but have all colors at the same time. I reach my hand to my back and grasp the very sword you tried to use to save me, I know this sword it is an extension of me, I know every inch of this hand and a half sword the glint of fire and ice forged steel, the pommel in the shape of a falcon’s head, the cross guard the wings of that falcon spread. I know every rune carved into the blade telling the stories of battles won and lost, it is a part of me in every way just as you are. Pulling it across my left shoulder with my right hand the blade singing as it is pulled from the sheath, singing for vengeance, singing for love, singing for his death.

A promise from me to me…..

Posted in ME with tags on March 24, 2013 by dankline2000

So if you had been told like I have been told over the last several days that you had the emotional fortitude of a lama, you think that it would give you a hint that there is something smelly in Denmark (no offense to the people of Denmark, it is just a saying I either made up or heard somewhere), I mean it took one of my readers whom is very dear to me to, telling me to take an emotional coffee break for me to see that I have been wrapped up, twisted and borderline obsessive with the way I am feeling, insert notation here, not that I am in no way dismissing how I feel. But I am being unobjective to myself, blaming myself for how another feels or in this case felt for me or not about me at all. It is so draining, it takes so much energy from me that I have nothing left for me or for that matter anyone else, it’s as if I am putting out there for the universe a literal kick me signimages (7), if others can feel it and sense it what a put off that must be, to see me a grown ass man wallowing in self pity and wasting energy chasing my own tail.images (6)

 

Now as good as all that sounds it is very hard to stop myself from doing just that, chasing my own tail. It takes will and effort to do this and I am afraid that I haven’t the ability to stop this wallowing in self pity. I have gained from my experiences, I know what and how to love, now to step out in the world and let others see me for me, know me for me the man I am not the wretch that is sitting in front of this computer. Still sounds good right? It is even harder to contemplate going forth and finding something I know I already had and want still to this very second.

But I will make a promise to myself that from this hour forward every day I will do something for me, even something as small as to stop and look around me and find wonder in this world I do actually live in, as for the rest I will do what I can one step at a time, crawl, walk, run in that order. This I promise to myself.

With much love and gratitude,

Dan Kline