M Digital Diary Logs

Masahir N'air

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Entry One;
4:21am Thursday

How should I even begin to put my thoughts down? Everything feels confusing and painful all the time, my thoughts always twisting on themselves like bundles of roiling snakes. I don't know, it just hasn't felt the same since everything happened. I haven't been able to sleep at night. I feel terrified being alone at night, an icy fear sinking into my body as the memories play on loop, repeating the incident over and over again. I can still feel his weight crushing me, I can feel those desperate hands. It feels like those shadows on the wall weren't real, none of it feels real in my mind but the pain keeps reminding me. It's like I can never escape it. Will I always feel this way? Will I always be marked and scarred? I just... I don't know.

~~~ ??????? ~~~

Entry Two;
7:53pm Saturday

The temptation is still there, no matter how hard I try to fight it. The idea of fresh red lines, the sharply sweet sting of pain peeks it's head into my thoughts and beckons. I could do it right now, I know how, so why not? Why not grab that razor and slice the internal emotional turmoil away? Why not set my mind to the cathartic steady rhythm of release? It'll be a treat, it'll feel so good, soooo so good to just do it one more time, right? I'll be able to bring the intangible to life, to make it feel, a physical, palpable expression where I can finally point and say 'There, there is my pain, here is where it lies.' My mind wanders, seeking relief from this endless cycle of burden and weight- I just want to taste it one more time, god, just one more time and I'll tell myself never again. No one will know, I'll hide it. I'll avoid sleeping nude until the itchy scabs peel away and when mi mama asks where I got new scars I'll say don't worry, didn't you notice those before? I've had them for years, you probably just never really paid attention, or maybe the lighting is different. No no no, you know I wouldn't do that, I know how much you hate it, I know it upsets you. I would never hurt you like that.

I feel stuck and trapped, unable to breathe, maybe if I just cut a hole I'll be able to breathe. How long have I been trapped, confined and twisted up in this uncomfortable shape? Will I have to tear myself out, inch by inch, line by line and day by day? How much longer should I wait? God, I hate myself for thinking, feeling these sorts of things. I feel like a grotesque monster, unlovable- totally unworthy of the love I receive. I am fractured into a million pieces, brittle and broken right down through my bones. Every instance of every second feels like I could scream until my throat was raw and still need to scream. To scream out the pain, the angry, the feeling. To scream until it all crawled out, until either the pain crawled out or I could slither out of my skin, tender and naked, vulnerable. Every inch of my exposed tissue would weep and gnash and cry in pain, bare nerve endings rubbed sensitive against the carpet and blankets. The pain would be exquisitely delightful, absolute relief in that moment of sheer blinding pain. Certainly everything after that would feel infinitely better by comparison, right?

~~~ ???????~~~

Entry Three;
3:46am Tuesday

God, what is wrong with me??? Is it wrong that I miss him still? That I miss the person he used to be, what we used to have? What changed? What changed him so much?? I don't understand why... I wish I could understand. God I was, we were going to get married. I loved him. I loved him, but I couldn't do anything, I couldn't do anything at all to stop the slow stumbling descent into the darkness, he slipped through my fingers like wind and sand. I thought I could help him, I thought I could save him. Nothing I said worked, why didn't it work? Why was he just so stupid, why didn't he listen to me? Why didn't he care, why couldn't he have cared? He leaked those pictures online and then acted offended, as if he was justified. Why, why? UGHHHH.

~~~ ??????? ~~~

Entry Four;
11:01am Friday

I wish I could talk to you one last time, you know? I wish I could tell you how much you've hurt me. You know, there was a time once, where we could talk to each other, where we trusted each other without fear or doubt. It was never enough, nothing was ever enough for you, you needed it all. Every second of every day, every ounce of my attention, every breath from my lips needed to be for you, right. I'd come home and you'd be knocking on the door just moments afterwards, demanding to know where I went and with who, because you didn't trust me, it wasn't enough. I couldn't do it anymore, I couldn't take it!

So I broke up with you. I told you to move on, to find someone else, that I needed a break from being around you, that I was done with the screaming and yelling and demanding. I told you to leave.

So you leaked my pictures online, you leaked our intimate messages, conversations, you told the whole world my inner thoughts and desires, you told them all so you could punish me. But it wasn't enough. You forced your way onto my porch, throwing rocks at my window for my attention. You asked to get back together, I said no, you begged, I refused. I can't even begin to understand the audacity you had to possess to dare ask me that. How dare you, how dare you, you sick twisted little monster.

That night when you pushed me down you blamed me for it. You cried and said I didn't know what it was like to be hurt and denied, that I couldn't fathom it. Can you even begin to imagine what it's like? To be betrayed by someone you love, to watch them slip away and stumble into darkness with no regard for the lives of others they destroy in the process? Do you have any clue, in that inflated, entitle head of yours that you hurt me as well? That all the screaming and yelling and pleading and fighting, all the times you hit me and slammed me into the wall, all the times I lied to Foley that nothing was wrong, all those times I lied to Angie as she put my makeup on for the day, all those times I begged and cried for her not to tell anyone because I was scared of what might happen to you.

I sit awake at night, unable to bear the idea of sleeping without the lights on, unable to stomach being alone with the doors closed. I'm terrified that you'll be there, hiding in the shadows waiting for your chance to lunge at me again, to sink your inky claws into my soul and string me out, to rip me to pieces for your own amusement.

~~~ ???????~~~

Entry Five;
1:32am Wednesday

I try to be as friendly and nice as possible, as optimistic and positive as I can, I want to help everyone that I see is down. I want to help because I have so much love inside of me, but some days it's hard. It's hard to get up and it's hard to do anything and breathing feels like the weight of the world. I have horrible nightmares of the abuse I've gone through and my fears plague every corner of my mind, reaching their deathly claws into my psyche and strangling me. My body hurts, my soul aches, my mind is numb with fog and my mouth is dry and gritty. It's a huge challenge for me to separate myself from the mantra that existence is pain, that to be alive is to experience suffering. Sometimes it feels like the only thing grounding me to this reality is pain or anxiety, and then to escape it all I turn everything grey and dilute. I wish I could take away all the bad in the world and just make it all right. I wish I could fix everything and help everyone, I want to, so badly.
 
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Masahir N'air

[M] Arbiter of Love
Staff member
Joined
Aug 3, 2018
Messages
101
Awards
6
Essence
€25,744
Coin
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Mesa Roja
Profile
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Faction
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Entry Six
11:13pm

So, uhm... It's nearly midnight. I can't sleep and my head keeps rushing a thousand miles an hour with thoughts. I got up and put something half-decent on. I haven't recorded a diary entry in a very long time. Yeah. I know... I'm a bad girl. Irresponsible, Ra calls it. Back then she had me going to therapy twice a week, before I got tired of it. Tired of thinking about all of it, because I don't want to keep thinking about it. How can you just keep going back and remembering the same mala mierda twice a week and call it progress? The night terrors didn't let up, and neither did the panic. She thought talking would help, because according to her I just love talking so much. All talking about it ever did was make me think about it constantly, and that broke me down to bits every time.

So I stopped going. When Ra'tima got busy and stopped making the appointments for me they shrank to once a week, then every other week, and then once a month. I faded out after that. My therapist, she would call... And I would let it ring to voicemail without answering, and delete the message without listening to it. Ra would ask me how therapy was going, and I would lie to her and say 'va bien, mama, va bien', but... I knew she could see the charges rolling in less and less often on her ledgers. She would sigh and shake her head at me, her aura painted all the beautiful colors of complicated emotions.

Complicated, beautiful emotions that she's always struggled to say, but most of all?

Profoundly sad acceptance.

My lies broke her heart. They broke her heart every time, and somehow I could never stop myself.

My therapist called it my 'inability to trust people', said it was related to what I went through growing up on the streets, being a little thief. She also told me that I 'can't let go of things' and 'struggle to be independent to the point of my own fault'. Well, maybe I don't like letting go of things. Maybe I am sick and fuckin' tired of things being taken from me, over and over and over again. I have always 'belonged' to someone, had to report in to somebody, had someone else lording over me, my choices, y mi espíritu. Judging me for my emotions, for being upset and 'unreasonable'- I am NOT unreasonable! I am not unreasonable for wanting to do my own thing and live my own life the ways I want to.

... And maybe that bastard broke me up beyond repair. Maybe in the end, he wins, because that's all that ever mattered to that stupid putamadre pendejo- that I'm still here, suffering the agony and evil he did to me, while he's- he's-... He's probably laying in a cold, shallow grave right now, curtesy of Ra'tima.

I just want to bury the memory of that night under a thousand feet of concrete. Bury all those nights of tears and fear away in some deep dark hole and forget about it, because when I think about it, I wish that I was the one laying cold and dead in the dirt. At least then I wouldn't be living with a chest full of razorblades and broken glass. At least then I would be free of it.

It. Then. Him. It was all the same difference. My therapist said dissociation from the trauma was normal, that it was just my brain putting up barriers to protect me from what had happened. I wish this estúpido cerebro mío would just black it all over in deep dark ink and let me wake up with a real fresh start one morning, but the closest I can get is getting fried on a Saturday night bad enough to have me waking up on Tuesday.


But then? Well. Then I met Cho.

Tall, bright, beautiful Cho,
He's got a heart of gold and a humble soul,
He's as sweet as honeyed candy when the day grows old,
My darling love Cho,
His round cheeks blushing to new heights untold,
Come on baby, go ahead and let your love unfold.


He's one of the knights of Uruk, a bit socially clumsy sometimes, but he's really a great guy. So good he doesn't even drink... Or smoke, which... Okay, I do think that's lame. Who goes to parties and doesn't partake in the good vibes? Oh, who am I kidding, he avoids parties unless I drag him kicking and screaming to them, then he wants to go home after thirty minutes. It'd be more fun if he got over his disdain for alcohol and just let himself go for a night or two, oh the fun we could have drifting from bar to party to bar~ ... But I digress.

He's been a blessing, Ra says. 'Finally you find a man who is steady and stable!' Ha. She's always fussing that I need to calm down and focus on life. I am focusing on life. My life. I'm living it the way I want to, why does everyone forget that? I'm not some stupid little kid, I'm an adult, a grown woman with a successful career and tons of adoring fans. I make my own money and buy my own things. What more do the people in my life want from me? Sorry that under all the glitz and glam, I'm far from perfect.

And I'm sorry that I lie to you too, Cho.

And I'm sorry that I break your soft, sweet heart into a billion pieces.

And I'm sorry that I'm some sick monster that can't stop. You deserve someone better to love on than me.

Someone better than me. Someone better off than me. Someone more put together than me, who shares more in common with you and can appreciate your homebody vibes. Someone who's not falling apart at the seams and only holding things together by the barest threads of appearance. Dios mio, why did you fall in love with me, lindito? The symphony of water-colored emotions earlier took my breath away. It moved me to my core and made my bones ache until those heavy words bubbled up from my heart and fell from my lips, and I cursed us both by speaking that truth into reality. I'm only going to cut you up on the inside, I'm only going to bring you down and make you hurt like I did today. Did I make you love me, the way I make people give me things I want? Did I trap you here in this miserable sea with me, because I couldn't stand being alone anymore?

Maybe Lucien was right to run away from me, and the law, with that brown-haired bitch.

I deserve it. I deserve being left behind.

I couldn't stop myself from looking Lucien up. Saw his bounty with that jailbreak, that woman and, funnily enough, Fish. Saw his bounty for fleeing from the gerudos a second time. Lucien acted so honorable in front of me, like he was some stand-up guy, but he turned out to be just as much of a liar as any charlatan, a crooked man using his tenure as cop to slide his way into my trust and get what he wanted: sex and female affection... And I fell for it. For his sincere compliments and genuine smile.

But what should I expect.


I need a few strong drinks...
 
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