schizopatia-antisexualis - Tumblr blog

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

i fucking hate when someone actually cares about me.

first of all: I know you’re gonna leave me, it’s just a matter of time.

second of all: i feel guilty for feeling bad and making them worry abt me.

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

i watched a video a little while back that talked about the difference between older and modern torture techniques. see, the problem with “traditional” torture methods, which usually involve one person, the interrogator or torturer, inflicting harm directly to another person, the victim, is that they can just as well produce resistance as they can produce submission. basically, if some guy is pulling your fingernails out you’re as likely to think “wow, fuck this guy” as you are to think you should do or say what he wants.

which is why modern torture methods try to remove any external agent of torture the victim can direct their anger to as much as possible. the video gives two examples of this kind of torture - solitary confinement, and prisoners being forced to remain in uncomfortable positions until they are in agony. in both cases, the victim experiences the source of their suffering not as coming from outside of them but as internal, their own mind and body turned against them. these are much more effective methods of breaking a person.

and that made me think of what we talk about as dysphoria. not only that but depression, anxiety, self-loathing in general. how we say “i hate my body” or “my brain hates me.” a friend of mine made a post on facebook asking how they could “stop myself from bullying me,” and it just hurt me so deeply.

this is how you break people.

because you aren’t bullying yourself, somebody else is. you did not choose to hate yourself just as a prisoner does not choose to remain in a squatting position for hours until their legs give out. somebody made you do that. it is essential that we understand these things as external. somebody is doing this to us. it’s not your fault. if you want to stop thinking cruel things about yourself you first need to understand that it is not. your. fault. you do not need to identify with the cruel voice in your head, you do not need to understand what it is saying as something you said or that you believe. somebody else said that to you and you’re just still hearing it. somebody forced you to think that. they forced you. you did not do this to yourself.

of course that somebody is not a person, but society, capitalism, ableism, white supremacy, patriarchy. etc. we know this. but we should understand the conditions we are in as torture and those structures as our torturer. when your mind begins to repeat some thought about yourself that you know isn’t true (and it isn’t, it isn’t ever true,) do not blame yourself. don’t make that pain recursive, dont “hurt yourself for hurting yourself.” it isn’t you. it’s them. get mad. fight back. resist. somebody is doing this to you.

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

American fash are like

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

sunt singur intr-o camera de doi pe trei metri. usa este inchisa, sa nu mai vad Oamenii de pe hol. peretii galbeni absorb lumina veiozei si redau o nuanta care in alte circumstante ar fi fost confortabila.

nu astazi totusi.

patul meu are o adancitura in care pot cadea ca intr-un vis. am pernele pregatite de somn; una la cap, una pe care o imbratisez si ma gandesc la tine. patura relativ subtire pe care o folosesc ma mentine la exact ce temperatura vreau, in combinatie cu geamul deschis. este o ambianta perfecta.

nu astazi totusi.

incercand sa dorm si sa te imbratisez imi uit bratul drept si mi-l amortesc. trebuie sa mi-l infasor in jurul tau ca sa imi fie mai bine. esti moale si pufoasa. adorm imediat.

nu astazi totusi.

incep sa respir manual. inspir expir. inspir. inspir. inspir. expir cu un oftat profund. dupa o perioada imi resincronizez respiratiile.

asa cum ar trebui sa fie tot.

bratele incolacite.

respiratia corecta si inconstienta.

patura infasurata in jurul piciorului stang.

vantul batand puternic afara.

nu astazi totusi.

lumina portocalie a lampii bate dincolo de fereastra si imi formeaza un patrat auriu pe perete. in patrat se formeaza o Umbra, straina de mine sau de copaci sau de scaun sau de tot.

iar respir manual.

ma doare in piept.

sunt atat de singur

in special astazi.

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

As a trans/nb schizotypal individual, it's a rather common occurence to stumble upon "sugary" posts that validate every inch of my fried circuitry of a brain. And look, maybe for some people it's great and it actually motivates them to feel like they're valid or that they matter or whatever.

but it's not for me

I find it exhausting and insincere, not for any necessarily logical reason, but simply because I don't need to be validated or justified by anyone, whether they have the same issues that I do or not.

I dunno, I just don't really like communities and probably that's why.

or maybe I actually Am Chaos, a solipsistic God in a world that is and isn't mine at the same time.

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

at this point i'll try anything

everyone who reads this post will get some big spicy joy within 24 large minutes (hours)

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

Collapsed Oldbuildings

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

h-hi

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

mfw all three of them

are you an aliens psychotic, a government psychotic, or a demons psychotic?

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

Me

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

okazii punct ro

ocazional ma apreciez

ocazional ma urasc

ocazional imi urasc corpul

ocazional imi urasc mintea

ocazional imi urasc spiritul

ocazii

ocazii

punct.

ro

ocazional imi apuc nasul

si ma dau de toti peretii

ocazional imi sucesc capul

si imi trosnesc toate oasele

ocazional fug de tine

pentru ca mereu mi-e frica

ocazional

cateodata

nu foarte des

uit de mine

si de tine

cand pisicile imi zambesc

si imi amintesc

cum frivolitatea constanta

este mama rauluiRaului

in lumina Gurii Lumii

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

Me to my anxiety : can u like calm down these people don’t even think about you Depression : ever Me: that’s not what I meant

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

County Fair/Circus Story

On Avery Island: Movement One

Your significant other breaks up with you at the County Fair. Heartbroken, you do nothing but walk around the fair and watch as the meds start to wear off.

Mr. Bungle: Movement Two

You enter the Circus tent alone, although it was taped shut, only to see the clowns jerk off each other. They notice you and they start chasing you. The fact that you're out of meds doesn't help either, it looks like a bunch of colorful slimes are trying to swallow you

Nail: Movement Three

As you're getting chased by the increasingly less euclidean clowns, you trip on a rock. The clowns take you somewhere where you can only hearing hammers and conveyor belts. You don't know what's happening to you more precisely, but you feel like dying. After a while, everything goes black. The last thing you feel is the hard floor of the supposed container.

The Major Organ And The Adding Machine: Movement Four

You wake up relatively invigorated. Why are you sitting there? The show is about to start, and you are the main attraction.

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

Dear God, I ripped Your Throat whole and spat it in the sink. I hereby declare Myself to be the new God. Ptuh.

[schizopatia-antisexualis]

yeap, foark it

androgyne/agender time